I am finally just so fucking exhausted trying to convince myself that I'm "just" bipolar. I'm writing this out to a public forum to out myself, so that maybe I can grow the balls to out myself to my IRL community (or what framework still exists). Hopefully this can be a thread to give other closeted BPDs the open air market to spill grievances and just absolutely fucking vent, especially y'all younger than me. Anyway, here is my BPD soliloquy-litany, because I'm absolutely tired of being ashamed. This is probably going to be mostly in Ghostface Killah lyrics "stream-of-consciousness" language, but also in list form. Forgive the nonsense or lack of cohesiveness, but I haven't expressed my feelings in two years out of pure fear of affecting another person's feelings or opinion of me. Feel free to add to this thread. 

1.) I'm tired of the stigmatic framework around this diagnosis being a mental health death sentence. 

2.) We aren't martyrs, nor are we demons. We are fucking humans. 

3.) I have been physically abused by a partner as an adult, as well as had pint glasses smashed over my back as a child. I was sexually abused on the back of a Greyhound bus by an uncle when I was four years old. I was neglected by a mother consistently for 4 years, left to take care of an infant overnight sometimes until 5 AM. I was the absolutely top of my class through grade school the whole way through to middle school, while moonlighting as a babysitter to a toddler. I fed myself from ages 7-10, left alone in a house in a fairly shitty neighborhood night in and night out. I've escaped through second story windows to get to payphone after watching my mother be slammed naked through glass coffee tables. These are the implicit reasons I am a fucked up adult. 

4.) I loved a boy very, very deeply, and obsess with him as an adult. He was my boyfriend from 12-21. He was the only person that ever showed me solace and kindness. I treated him like dogshit. He's very successful in my eyes and a beautiful person. I need to stop looking. I still love the shit out of him. 

5.) After my ex-fiance dumped me, I lost it so bad I was arrested by the Georgia State Police for a suicide attempt turned me completely losing my mind on three officers. That led to an involuntary commitment. Georgia practically still runs sanitariums. Do not go to the bin in Georgia. 

6.) I have been hospitalized 6 times. One was a real suicide attempt, one was an attempt I got caught on, two were psychosis, the others I really just couldn't deal with real life. I've been hospital-free for two years. My treatment is emotional isolation now. I'm not sure which is more ineffective. 

7.) I stay in bed when I don't have to work 70 percent of the time. 

8.) I stopped making art because I feel like the identity and aesthetic that I have to offer that feels genuine doesn't sync with my public persona, and I am paralyzed in fear that no one will look at it with any reaction except "poser" or "hack" or "trend-slave" or something of the ilk. Realistically, I'm actually fairly talented. 

9.) On top of being borderline, I also have a skin combing addiction, and I'm an alcoholic. I haven't fucked someone sober in years. 

10.) I blacked out every night for a year and a half. It's pretty foul. 

I want to knock all of this shit off. I'm actually quite talented, and I'm fairly pretty. I think I'm articulate and charming. I want a ritualistic regulation. I want to read Proust, I want to be kind to a lover, but the arrow of time in one direction I suppose. Prayers for everyone to channel their thin-skins, for you see truths the norms don't. You'll just never, ever be able to communicate them if you don't get your shit together. 

Alms to start to get your shit together fellow BPDs. Love yourself somehow even if you suck, because we're all going to fucking die anyway and this self-torture and debasement isn't worth it. Someone probably treated you like dogshit when your brain wasn't developed. Some shits not your fault. Some shits TOTALLY your fault. Cheers to the path to navigate the difference. I'm tired of silence. I'm tired of not expressing my feelings because I question every single one, wondering if it's real. If we don't express, we can't seek truth. Balance, y'all. Let's all find balance. 

