Out of the Darkness to Light

Out of the Darkness to Light

This is my life. This is the story of my journey from the bounds of darkness to the light of life. The journey is by no means finished. There are days where there are great setbacks. I get caught up in the tangles of the past. I lose sight of the present. I am one of the millions who are diagnosed with borderline personality disorder (bpd).
Even among psychiatrists it causes great controversy. There is about 2% of the general population in the United States that suffer from bpd. Of those that suffer from it, 75% are women. Causes of bpd seem to come from both chemical and environmental situations.
I don’t care what the doctors say. They are not the ones living in this hell that exists in my mind. As with all people, there are no two bpd exactly alike. This is just my journey. I hope that in the end it will give you a compassionate glimpse into the mind of the millions of misunderstood souls.


Pain – all encompassing; streaking through the soul without end. “It must be released. How can I release it? I must do it.”
I hid in my room. I waited until all were asleep. Then I did it. I took the glass from the hiding place. Slowly I put it to my leg. As always I made sure that the marks wouldn’t show under my clothing. I made the first downward stoke. I continued to work over and over until the word was deeply embedded in my skin. The blood began to flow. Today I wrote the word pain.
Finally, released from the agony in my soul. Finally, I felt some peace; at least long enough to sleep that night. .
The next day there was more pain, physical this time. But physical pain was good. The emotional blinding pain of the night before was gone, at least for a little while. I hated using the glass, but I had to. I had no choice. I was mad at myself for having done so.
I had done well for over two years. I had successfully managed to overcome the urge to cut. There were some days when the only reason I didn’t cut was because I didn’t have anything to cut with.
Then one day a picture frame broke. I immediately put away a piece of the glass knowing one day I would need it as a method of escape from the relentless pain in my inner most soul.
What happened this time? It started with a simple phone call from my military son. He was being deployed to Iraq. From that moment, for the rest of the day, I was in hell. Fear and pain consumed me. My son was going to war. The pain mounted. I knew what I had to do.
Some people from the outside have said that people cut for attention or to manipulate others. From my own part, I never did it to affect anyone else. I didn’t want others to know I had cut. I cut because I had no choice. I cut for the release of the pain.
Later, in seeking therapy, I discussed my cutting with a counselor. This person told me that there was a physical reason why people cut or do other self-injuring activities. There was a release of chemicals (endorphins) when there was physical pain, like runners who push themselves beyond endurance. This chemical release gave a high and it was addictive. That was why many bpd cut often and why it was a hard behavior to stop.
Being addicted to a chemical was not a new thing to me. Bpds often suffered from addictions. My main addiction was alcohol.
Alcohol provided an escape from reality. At times, reality was something I could not handle. I didn’t start by turning to alcohol though.
My first method of escape was reading. I found reading in sixth grade. I discovered the library. I had always been a good reader. Until this point, though, my reading had been confined to school material.
Then I began to enter the world of fiction. Whole new worlds opened up. I went from reading one book in two weeks to reading one book in two hours. The world of words became my haven.
My universe as a child was not a happy world. As with many bpd, I was sexually abused at a young age. That warped my sense of self.
So early on, I wanted a way of escape from home. School was my path to freedom. I felt that, with an education, I could have success in the world. I could be someone. Learning came easy for me and I made good grades. I got along with my teachers. But education was not my key to success. I still could not escape the torment in my mind.
In school I did not have many friends. I tended to keep people at a distance for the most part. I had trouble trusting others. There were a few here and there through out the years that managed to get in – to a certain point. It is a contradiction I know, but with these people, I would tend to cling, being afraid that they would not like me if they got to know the real me. I craved affection and reassurance. I was a people pleaser. I did whatever I could do so that the friend at the time would hang around for a while. No matter where I was or whom I was with, I was alone. Loneliness was my constant friend. I always felt like I was on the edge of the circle. I felt out of it, not really in reality.
As I grew and entered high school, that feeling of being in a fog became worse. People all around me were making life long friendships. I did not except for one friend. I met her the first day of high school. She shared all the same classes that I had. I did tend to cling though. She somehow sensed what I needed in a friendship and provided a safe place for me. To this day, over 20 years later, we are good friends despite the miles that separate us.
What high school experience would be complete without a romantic relationship? Until my senior I stayed away from the boys. I started a part-time job early my freshmen year and kept busy. My senior year, though, I met someone. Someone I thought would fill that empty hole in me.
I was very active in my church during my teen years. I had strong beliefs about waiting until marriage for intimate relationships. Maybe that is what kept the other boys away from me. I don’t know. Now I thought I had found someone that would actually love me. It is a paradox, I know, to expect someone to love you without you being honest about your own thoughts and feelings. I wanted to be close, but I didn’t want to get too close. I still kept those walls up. I was afraid of being abandoned. Fear of abandonment is an issue that I battle to this day.
Needless to say, this boy and I became intimate. I suffered great guilt from giving in. I wanted so much to be loved. Because of the sexual abuse in my past, I had the feeling that I wasn’t good enough for anything but sex. I wanted to keep this relationship so I had sex. This habit would guide me negatively through many years.
I ended up getting pregnant and we got married. We were kids playing house. Two more children followed. I loved my children dearly for finally there was someone who loved me for myself; no matter what. I devoted myself to them. They were my reason for living. Years passed.
Between my second and third child, I decided to go to college. I worked hard. During my senior year, I had a nervous breakdown. The stress from school, raising the kids, finances, and my marriage was too much. I did finish my schooling but I was not able to do much with my degree. It was all I could do to take care of the kids.
For many reasons, the marriage ended after twelve years. The failure of my marriage brought severe depression. I had failed. I didn’t think of it as being a two person issue. All I knew was that I had failed. That was all that was in my mind. I sunk so far into my depression that I could not find a way out. I began thinking that my kids would be better off without me, that everyone would be better off without me. I tried to commit suicide by taking pills and alcohol. Fortunately, a friend found me in time. I ended up in the hospital.
By this time, in addition to the depression, I had fear of crowds and open places. I couldn’t even go into a convenience store to pay for gas. My children had to do this. I had a hard time attending church because of other people. I had a hard time going grocery shopping. I had anxiety attacks whenever I was around more than a couple of people at a time. After intensive counseling and medication, I don’t suffer from anxiety attacks today; except when I fly and I don’t fly very often. I don’t have to take the medications for anxiety any longer.
Right after my marriage ended, I got into another relationship. I had a hard time being alone. I felt like I wasn’t worth anything without a man around. In the relationship, I would feel like I needed them to survive. It was an all-or-nothing type of relationship. They were to be totally involved in me or it was no relationship at all. In essence I demanded everything from them without giving them much of myself. I didn’t trust them.
After that relationship ended, I started another. This time I got remarried. I was determined to do it right. The marriage lasted less than two years. I sank into deep depression again. Again I got involved in another relationship.
When this relationship ended, I didn’t get involved with anyone else. I started drinking. In just nine short months, I went from drinking occasionally to drinking heavily all day. It ended with me almost dying from alcohol poisoning.
After this, I was determined to make a fresh start. I moved over 2000 miles; away from my three older children and my parents. I didn’t know a single person.
Looking back, I had no idea how I survived the move. I only had my youngest with me. He was six years old.
I got involved with the local mental health services. I had an excellent doctor and counselor. I started improving. I started going to a recovery group for my drinking. By the grace of God, I will not have to drink again.
I recently moved again; just a few hours away. I am doing better than ever. I am learning that I have to love myself before anyone else can love me. I have come to an awareness of my positive characteristics. I know I am a survivor and above all, I have a God that loves me and He is there for me at all times.
I go about without fear now. I am making real friends and learning to lower that wall. I am fitting into my own skin. I am thinking about what I do first before being so impulsive. I know that I am worthy of love. I am learning to cope with life on life’s terms without using an escape method.
Life is good today. For the first time in my memory I am happy. I know I still have a long way to go but life is a journey and I love it.