Borderline Personality Disorder

BPD Diagnosis

During my first admission into psychiatric hospital the diagnosis of borderline personality disorder or emotionally unstable personality disorder was talked about in one of my ward rounds. Ward round happens weekly and a nurse from the ward, yourself and the psychiatrist meet together to discuss your admission, how you’re doing, discharge, medication and diagnoses. This was when BPD was first thrown in the mix for me. However it was mentioned by a doctor who had only met me in one ward round and wasn’t the normal psychiatrist I saw in ward rounds and therefore I dismissed the thought of this as a diagnosis straight away. 

It was during my other admissions following that one that I was given the official diagnosis of BPD and first I wasn’t happy or convinced that it fit my problems at all. I knew I suffered with anxiety, depression and OCD but this extra diagnosis just didn’t seem to be me. I hadn’t suffered trauma as a child and my parents had done a great job of raising me and my sisters. At first, all I knew about BPD was that most people that suffer from it have experienced trauma as a child. The psychiatrist who diagnosed me and I didn’t get on too well either so I just decided at the beginning that he was wrong and so he put BPD traits as my diagnosis rather than just straight out BPD. 

During another admission on the same ward, with the same doctor he changed it to BPD and at first again I was not happy or convinced. But I started to research BPD a bit more and discovered whilst a large number of sufferers have experienced trauma you don’t have to have to be diagnosed. At this point I was starting to realise some of the things I could relate to and that maybe the psychiatrist had been right, although it still pains me to say it! They say you must experience at least 5 of of following to be diagnosed so I will go through each one and say how I relate to it. These were taken from the Mind website, the link is below. 

• You feel very worried about people abandoning you, and would do anything to stop that happening.
• For me, fear of abandonment is there but it’s not extreme.

• You have very intense emotions that last from a few hours to a few days and can change quickly (for example, from feeling very happy and confident to suddenly feeling low and sad).
• This is true for me some of the time, again I wouldn’t say I experience this to the extreme. 

• You don't have a strong sense of who you are, and it can change significantly depending on who you're with.
• My self esteem and sense of who I am waivers quite a lot. In some circumstances I feel very confident about who I am and what I do, other times I feel like a complete failure of a person, who I dislike very much. 

• You find it very hard to make and keep stable relationships.
• This isn’t true for me. 

• You feel empty a lot of the time.
• This isn’t true for me. 

• You act impulsively and do things that could harm you (such as binge eating, using drugsor driving dangerously).
• This isn’t true for me at all.

• You often self-harm or have suicidal feelings.
• This is very true for me. 

• You have very intense feelings of anger, which are really difficult to control.
• I have only started to recognise that some of my feelings I experience strongly are anger. 

• When very stressed, you may also experience paranoia or dissociation.
• I have experienced both of these in crisis before.

 https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/types-of-mental-health-problems/borderline-personality-disorder-bpd/about-bpd/

Being diagnosed with BPD, for me, was quite a long, stressful and challenging process and time. At first I completely disagreed with the diagnosis but I agree with it now and realise that knowing what I am struggling with is only going to help me improve my life and work through the challenges that BPD presents. Many people think those with BPD are manipulative and challenging in relationships with short tempers and challenging behaviour but I urge anyone to just get to know the person, rather than jumping to any conclusions. BPD does not define a person but if you struggle with it, recognising that you do, can be the start of your journey to recovery as you learn more about you and how your mind works. 

One year

One Year

One year ago today my life changed. I went to a gig in Brighton with my friend Keturah, I socialised with people, I enjoyed myself, I had a smile on my face and I laughed. But nobody knew what I had planned for that night, I planned to take my own life. Thankfully I found some bravery somewhere deep down and I told Keturah how much I was struggling, and what my plans for that evening were. She had no idea. Nobody would have. 

At this point she demonstrated how amazing a friend she was as she sat with me in A&E for hours on end waiting to see the psych liaison team to decide where to go from there. She sat with me until the early hours as I cried and as I grew more and more weary and unwilling to stay any longer. At a certain point Keturah had to leave me and I was given a bed in CDU, the clinical decisions unit. Nobody else knew what I was going through at this point, I hadn't yet found the bravery to tell my family. 

The next day, I dug deep for the confidence to share what was going on with my sister. The rest of my family didn't even know I'd been struggling with my mental health at this point. My sister was an absolute life saver and communicated all that I wanted with the rest of my family. 

It was decided, by the psych liaison team that a stay in psychiatric hospital would benefit me, as the state I was in with self harm and suicidal thoughts was life threatening. 

I spent much of my time in CDU sat in the corner of my room on the floor crying or having panic attacks, the other part of my time I paced the corridors. There was only one person successful in helping me up from my crying, screaming state on the floor and that was a nurse called Jess. Jess helped me literally pick myself up from the floor and start to turn my life around. 

After a couple of days in CDU, I felt unable to stay and tried to leave. It was at this point the psych liaison team sectioned me on a 5.2 (72 hour section) for my safety. They thought that if I left I would try and harm myself or take my own life. After 6 days in CDU I was given a bed in a psychiatric ward in Chichester, 36 miles from home. I ended up staying in Chichester for a month before moving to a more local unit. 

What followed in the last year has been an absolute rollercoaster of emotions, of admissions into hospital, of suicidal thoughts and attempts, of self harm, of both speaking out and of bottling it all in. I never thought my year would turn out how it did, but I shall remember this year for the rest of my life.

But this year, I've learnt so much. I've learnt about myself, I've learnt how to dig deep and find the bravery and confidence to speak out when I'm struggling. I've cried tears I thought would stay bottled up forever and I've fought intrusive thoughts, urges, rituals and compulsions like I was in a war. I've hurt myself far too often and I've left scars on my skin forever, but I've also grown. I've grown into this 28 year old woman who can speak up about suicide, self harm, anxiety, BPD and OCD. I've grown in confidence and I've grown in bravery.

One year ago today my life changed. I went to a gig, I socialised with people, I enjoyed myself, I had a smile on my face and I laughed. But nobody knew what I had planned for that night, I planned to take my own life. Thankfully I found some bravery somewhere deep down and I told someone, and that was the bravest thing I've ever done in my life. Nobody would have had any idea I was struggled but because I spoke out I received help that I so needed at that point. 

Please reach out if you are struggling, it might just save your life. 
Please speak to people if you think they are struggling with self harm or suicidal thoughts, it might just save their life. 

One Year On

One Year On 

One year on, 
Since my freedom was thieved from me, 
I was sectioned and taken away. 

One year on, 
Since I was picked up from the hospital floor,
Screaming and Crying 'make it stop.'

One year on, 
Since the voices in my head got too loud, 
haunting me and scaring me. 

One year on, 
Since I first screamed someone please help me, 
admitting to my struggles and revealing it to everyone. 

One year on, 
Since death seemed the only option to get me out,
where living was only going to hurt me. 

One year on, 
Since suicide seemed attractive to me, 
my only escape and way out

One year on, 
Since I was hospitalised in a psych ward & checked up on,
every hour through a small window in the door.

One year on.
Since the voices were loud enough to be called torture, 
the harming myself considered fatal.

One year on, 
Since the counting, the rituals, the compulsions, 
reached out of control. 

One year on,
Since all of this and more, 
my life changed, flipped, was turned upside down. 

One year on,
Since so much has changed again, 
Finally everything, the intensity is less
And I keep living instead of dying. 

Dear Anxiety

Dear Anxiety

Dear Anxiety,

You take up so much time in each thought that travels through my mind, 

creating what if scenarios, and forever keeping my brain whirring.

You keep me up at night, whispering in my ear;

Have you thought about this? Have you thought about that? 

Questioning everything, even my own existence. 

You’ve broken me anxiety. 

Dear Anxiety, 

You never leave me alone, at peace, 

Your requirements are that I think about things often and in great detail.

In more detail than those around me and diving deeper into the what ifs than the average person.

You are constantly there, like a gremlin on my shoulder. 

You persist and persist, quizzing me about everything and everyone. 

The feeling of dread never deserts me, and feels heavy on my chest every waking moment. 

Normal people feel you for a while and then you go away, 

But I feel you to the extreme and you never go away. 

You’ve broken me anxiety. 

Dear Anxiety,

You’ve wrecked my 2019 and you fill my next year with fear, 

because I don’t know if I can get past you anxiety. 

I don’t know how to leave you outside and never invite you in again. 

You’ve haunted me for so long and ruled my life since I was a teenager. 

Anxiety, you’ve made me hurt myself, cry myself to sleep and hurt other people in the process of learning to live with you. 

If I can’t get rid of you completely I don’t know what I’ll do as I have no clue how to thrive with you by my side. 

You’ve broken me anxiety. 

Dear Anxiety, 

Most of the time I have no words for you but today I’m writing you this letter begging you to please, please, please leave me alone. 

You’re slowly ruining me and taking away my sense of belonging, sense of hope and sense of purpose. 

I never thought I’d let you stop me doing the things I love, slowly but surely you’ve seeped in, gatecrashing every moment, and taking away my joy. 

You’ve broken me anxiety. 

Dear Anxiety, 

You’re a deadly disease, but people don’t understand that they think that you’re just in jumbled up heads. 

Theres been times I think I’ve made you up but how can I have made you up when the physical affects of you take over me.

Like when the panic rises over the level I can manage and the attack begins.

You’ve broken me anxiety. 

Dear Anxiety, 

the weight of you on my chest and on my shoulders is unbearable. 

The hyperventilating, the fast heart rate, the sweaty palms, the hiding wherever I can, all come hand in hand with the racing thoughts and the muddled mind. 

I can’t hide you anxiety, in my mind and body you have made your home. 

But it can’t stay this way. 

You’ve broken me anxiety. 

Dear Anxiety, 

I’m done with you being the one in control. 

I’m done with you dictating what I can and cannot do. 

I’m done with the way you have stolen my joy and purpose. 

I’m done with the way you’ve robbed me of the things I love the most, including my job. 

I’m done with the way you tell me this way is the right way to do life. 

I’m done with the exhaustion. 

I’m done with you anxiety, you no longer are going to be in charge. 

For this body and mind you’ve inhabited is not yours but mine. 

And I’m claiming it back.

Dear Anxiety,  

I’m claiming back the time you’ve stolen from me. 

I’m claiming back the thoughts you’ve taken over.

I’m claiming back the energy you take up and the job you robbed me of.

I’m claiming back the mind you’ve made confused, disjointed and disorganised.

I’m claiming back the control. 

I’m claiming back the thoughts of life and not those of death. 

I’m claiming back the fun you’ve taken from me

And I’m claiming back the enjoyment 

because you’ve drained me of everything I am anxiety 

so I’m saying HERE is where I start again and rebuild what you have broken. 

Dear Recovery

Dear Recovery

Dear recovery,

You scare me more than you’ll ever know. 

You are close to me, 

within my touch, 

within my reach

Yet you’ve also never felt so far away

Recovery,

you stare me in the face desiring me to look into your eyes 

and for me to fall in love with you

But when you’ve learnt how to live hating yourself and destroying yourself 

doing the opposite seems impossible, unreachable. 

And though it’s hard to say, undesirable.

I have fallen in love with ruining myself 

and so falling in love again, 

this time with you is just not possible.

Dear recovery, 

you choose people,  

Sometimes you choose those that seem the furthest away from you 

and you try and entice them near 

like offering candy to a small child. 

You’ll do anything to get them 

but I’m onto you recovery. 

I know what you’re doing.

You try and convince me to love myself and I can’t do that so I can’t be with you. 

You try and make me want to live 

and when I’ve spent so long wanting to die 

how do I do that?

Dear Recovery,

You scare me because I’m scarred permanently with the marks of this mental illness, 

even if I’m with you there will be reminders that I’ve been where I am now. 

I can’t deal with the way you target those around me to inspire me. 

Sometimes I’m jealous 

Other times I’m just done with you wrecking my head 

by being with them and not with me. 

I’ll never be like them, I’ll never hold on to you as tight as they manage to.

Even when I want you recovery 

I have decided you are too good to be true 

and I sure as hell don’t deserve you. 

Dear recovery,

I’m here reaching for you on some days 

And turning you away on the next 

You want to embrace me

But I’m not so sure you’re right for me?

I live with the voice in my head so against me

How you can be so for me? 

Dear Recovery, 

Oh boy do you scare me

When I’m battling with those who care for me?

They want me to hold your hand 

Run with you into the sunset 

And never look back

But recovery

Some days I’ll hold your hand and run with you 

Other days I’ll let go and escape from your reach

Some days I despise you

Other days I desire you

You confuse me recovery

My mind is unsure what to make of you

But I’ll tell you this recovery

You make me want to shout at you

In anger, in rage because I don’t understand you

And in love and hope because you’re the only unchanging thing I could possibly cling to.

Dear recovery,

Why do you feel so unreachable 

Why do you scare me 

When all you want is me to reach out to you

I don’t know who I am with you, 

But in all honesty I don’t know who I am without you either.

There is hatred, 

there is anger,

 there is the a self destruction button 

that I’ve pressed far too many times.

Dear recovery, 

Everyone expects me to be best friends with you 

to want you more than I want anything else

But what happens if sometimes, just sometimes,

I want the thing that I’m used to.

The mess in my mind is what I’m used to

And sometimes my comfort zone is all I want to know 

But, recovery, it’s about time I leant on you, 

 learnt from you 

and spent time with you 

So please help me recovery, 

even when I’m unsure, 

help me to choose you. 

each day I need to make a choice 

and despite our dodgy History 

And what the voice in my head might say

I want that choice to be you recovery 

3 weeks

3 weeks

I don’t think you’ll understand 

but today marks three weeks self harm free. 

All I want to do is self sabotage, I want to

Ruin it.

I can't explain why 

but that's where my brain goes 

when I’ve been three weeks self harm free.

If you don’t understand, I’m glad.

The feeling of three weeks self harm free.

It means you haven’t experienced that

Dark place.

I'm still suffering

In silence this time

When I've been three weeks self harm free.

I’m loudly proud 

of being three weeks self harm free.

But then comes the feelings, that I’m not

sick enough. 

Not sick enough for support,

not worthy of any help

when I’ve been three weeks self harm free.

I’m quietly anxious

of being three weeks self harm free.

Anxious I’ll slip up, ruin my streak, and 

mess up.

Mess up I will not, 

I beg my mind, please,

When I’ve been three weeks self harm free.

The urges are high

battling through three weeks self harm free.

I cannot cave. I will not give in, I must 

resist the urges

like Jesus facing Satan, in 

the wilderness,

when I’ve been three weeks self harm free.

Missing the euphoria 

and being three weeks self harm free.

The adrenaline gone, not there, 

completely absent 

I can’t miss the feeling,

surely? 

when I’ve been three weeks self harm free.

The scars are fading 

because I’m three weeks self harm free.

The marks that cover my body, disappearing 

slowly, slowly.

The body confidence I’ve never had may come, 

or maybe it won’t, 

when I’ve been three weeks self harm free.

It’s a weird, mixed feeling

of being three weeks self harm free.

I can’t decide whether I like it, or whether

it kills me. 

Doing it makes me feel alive, and now 

it’s gone, 

when I’ve been three weeks self harm free.

Be proud, they say,

I’m three weeks self harm free.

Be happy, they say, 

Embrace it, they say. 

Enjoy it, they say.

Not yet, I say, 

when I’ve been three weeks self harm free.

The chase and the voice

The chase and the voice

It's never been this loud before, 
my hands are clenching my head. 
It's making me want to run, 
I'm at A&E waiting for a psych bed. 
And this is the loudest the voice has been. 
It's horrible, nasty, evil.
The words, sometimes muttered, sometimes shouted. 
The demands given are nasty, dark and exhausting. 
But there's a pull, because it takes over, 
and in that moment I can't rationalise, 
so the voices wins.
And on this occasion I run. 
I run because it tells me to run. 
And theres a chase. 
There's a chase because I'm a danger to myself. 
But the voice is loud. 
The voice is unkind.
The chase, 
by the doctors and nurses is undramatic, 
but slightly eventful 
and I cry
and the nurse hugs me
and the chase is over. 
This repeats itself
again, 
again, 
and again. 
Just like the voice does,
again, 
again, 
and again. 
I'm sorry
again, 
again,
and again.
But the voice is not sorry.
It carries on, 
relentless, 
and it takes over,
and I have no control. 
And it's the voice that wins
and the chase that wins
as they catch me
and bring me back into the hospital.
Everything else is winning, 
not me, 
I'm not winning. 
The battle is tough, 
the voice is loud
and the chase is real. 

Talk about it

Talk about it

7 steps forward, 8 steps back.
Of motivation, do I considerably lack. 
How much longer, I ask myself, can I cope?
I long for, my heart to be filled, filled up with hope. 
How much more of this hurt can I bare?
People around me exclaiming this isn't fair.
Some people encourage me, telling me I'm smashing it.
I don't know anymore, how much of this smile is faking it.
I've got through, just about, every bad day so far. 
Wish I could bottle up my fight and keep it in a jar. 
The monster up inside of my head
Wishes for nothing more than for me to be dead.
But I've got to fight,
Right?
I've got to keep this life going.
Even if it takes up my everything.
Even when I'm exhausted and tired. 
I know deep down, keep going I should. 
It seems so very, very dark. 
As on my leg the razor does mark. 
It hurst, I feel the pain. 
But nobody stops going, even after the day of rain.
I must look for the good,
That is something I should.
People send me love and prayer
And I remind myself of this in the midst of this nightmare. 
It's okay not to be okay
The world around me does say. 
Talk about it. 
Even when the voices chat shit. 
When the system let's you down.
Chews you up, spits you out and leaves you with a frown. 
Talk about it. 
When the mould doesn't fit. 
Talk about it. 
Ask a friend to come by and sit.
Talk about it. 
The world does say
And talk about it you may. 
Phone a friend, a brother, a sister, a daughter, a son. 
Away from it do not run. 
Talk about it. 
Or the ladder may never find its way into your pit. 
Call the number, the helpline. 
They'll reach out, hopefully give you a lifeline. 
And onto that you must cling. 
Night and morning, even as the birds sing. 
Hold on tight.
Find your fight. 
Talk about it. 
Please, talk about it. 

Self Expression Group Poem

During my most recent hospital stay there was a group called Self Expression where we were given a photo, very similar to this one and asked to write a short piece on it. I opted for a poem, of course!



The water hits the rocks, making a crash.
The salty water causing such a splash.
The sun over the horizon is seen.
The early morning swimmers have already been.
Time here almost stands stilled.
Almost, until the beach has been filled.
There, in the distance, there is a lighthouse shining.
For this is the weather the holiday makers are pining.
Off the rocks people do dive.
The residents of this town surely do thrive.
They are big and fierce, the waves.
And if you search hard enough you will find the caves.
This place is wild and free.
Where else would you want to be?

Wellbeing group poetry

During a recent wellbeing group we wrote some group poetry a line at a time, where only the line before was given for you to continue the poem. What was created were 5 pieces of poetry surprisingly beautiful and they flowed. So I thought I would share them on here for you to enjoy.  

The stars were shining in the dark sky. 
Just before the rain started pouring
there was a glimpse of the summer sun. 
While resting in the grass
I find myself enjoying the summer breeze, 
bringing with it the smell of the sea. 
This reminds me of relaxing, 
feeling my heart stop racing, feeling my breath slow down. 
It was a calming moment. 

Moonlight shadows on the lake, 
cool breeze against the trees. 
Under the tree I admired it's branches
The birds sang sweetly as the sun shone 
The sun was bright and the flowers were in bloom.
But the voice in my head could only scream, 
from the tiredness within me 
keeping me awake.

Tea is comforting,
Tea is how I start my day. 
I like to look out the window at the view. 
The view is beautiful and calming 
But the noise is scary and loud, 
from the scary film. 
I hide alone from the thoughts surrounding me, 
waiting for something. 

There's not a cloud in the sky today. 
The sky is blue, the mood is grey. 
The clouds in the sky, thoughts are floating. 
I admired the sky and wondered if the clouds knew how beautiful they look.
The grass was soft and I laid there for a long time while I dreamed. 
I suddenly woke to the sound of a tractor. 
Spring had finally sprung. 

Man with a tan relaxing in the California sun, 
lazing around and having fun. 
Watching funny films, 
with family and friends 
is time well spent.
Having time to sit and ponder and not be rushed in anything I do today, 
living in the moment, 
living my best life. 
Things were getting clearer at last.