The Unforgivable, Unfillable Void

Hello! This is my first blog post. I considered writing a sort of ‘get to know me’ post but figured I would get straight down to the point of me creating this blog, my mental health and the daily struggle my illnesses cause me.

I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder in May of this year. I have to say that it came as no surprise to me. I see so many people receive the diagnose and say “I had no idea! What even is that?” Well, for me it was different. As I have friends with BPD, I had familiarised myself with it a couple years prior to my own diagnosis. Whilst researching, something struck a chord with me and I was baffled by how strongly I related to each symptom of the disorder. I watched numerous documentaries on it (not that there are many out there) and it all seemed to fit into place. Now I am not a self diagnose-er and never have been, but I do believe we know our own minds better than anyone else ever can. So when I spoke to my psychiatrist, I brought up my concerns and by the next appointment after an assessment, BOOM. You have Borderline Personality Disorder.

Instead of talking about every symptom of BPD and how they affect my every day life, I’m just going to focus on the now, the present. What is the most prominent horror in my spaghetti brain right now? The void. The unforgivable, unfillable void. I’m sure if you have BPD or other mental illnesses you know what I’m talking about. That chronic sense of emptiness, that longing for a home you’ve never known, that deep bellowing pain that resonates as a numb echo as you auto pilot through each day. Right now, as I write this, I’m sat on my bed in silence, facing a blank wall wondering how anyone can possibly spend 90-100 years of life never filling that void. I suppose this is why the suicide rate of those with BPD is so high. Never mind the never ending mood swings, emotions amplified by 100 and the trauma that usually comes with it, hands held swinging side by side. How can anyone be expected to live an entire life time never really feeling fulfilled? I don’t have an answer to this right now and I worry I never will.

At the young age of 22, I feel as though I’ve lived a thousand lifetimes. Maybe mental illness from a young age ages you. I know that my somewhat troubled childhood and torturous mind have aged me way beyond my years. Physically and mentally, I’m tired. I feel like I should be baking cookies for my grandkids who are popping round any minute. Alas, they are not, I’m 22 years old with the back pain and life experience of a 87 year old woman. I’m not sure people who are blessed enough to live a life without severe mental illness understand how much it stunts you in life. There are so many opportunities and chances I’ve had or could’ve had but didn’t due to my debilitating conditions. I suppose it all comes back down to that chronic emptiness, presenting questions such as what is the point? Why try when it’s not going to change what’s going on inside? Why bother doing anything when staring at the wall for 4 hours brings as much excitement as jumping off the tallest building in the world?

I’m surprised I could come up with this many actual human words today considering my totally alienated state but I’m glad I did. Hopefully my next post will be a lot longer and a lot more in depth but hey, you get what you’re given.

I hope any and everybody who reads this knows just how important you are, just how wonderful you are, and that no matter how hostile your inner dialogue gets, don’t forget to come up for breath.

Speak soon,

borderlineantoinette

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