Tag Archives: BPD

On the Borders of my Mind.

It is ironic how a slight attack could change everything. It’s uneasy to explain or make feelings coherent. After all, borderline personality disorder comes with bits and pieces from everything else. Sometimes anxiety, unexplained fears, and the worst of all DEPRESSION. BPD comes with its baggage, as if, we, humans need more burdens! The world is hard itself, surviving is an act of courage in the 21st century, what’s the point behind having unseen monster that carves out holes on our fragile existence. And no matter how much you fight, monitor those thoughts and plead….. Nothing leaves.

I remember few years ago when I took a challenging decision to quit medications, I knew its going to be uneasy ride in my emotional circus. But, today I would do it all over again, I would take the very same decisions. Because it helped me, when I browse online forums and read what people are saying about their experiences, I wonder if that could be me OR I am just another spectrum. I read words that I am completely unfamiliar with “Co-dependence, manipulation, emotional abuse” and I wonder if I have ever been like that, I wonder if my father’s death shaped the different case of borderline I came across. I isolated myself from the world and wrapped myself in darkness to be safe, I managed to learn dealing with my volatile mood. I confess I mastered manipulation, a skill I learned as a reaction to those who truly deserve it, however, at some point in my life I was done. I despised seeing myself getting dragged in the path branded by manipulation, that wasn’t me. I had to escape.

I learned to put myself in everyone’s shoes regardless, to forgive and accept an apology I will NEVER get. After all, I didn’t want to see a corrupted image of myself and use BPD as my ultimate scapegoat.

Now, I look back and process how did the past 5 years pass in an eye blink, where I am today and the price I paid…. A very expensive price and I am not sure if anything in the world is worth losing human being in the process.

I look back knowing that I am 200% stronger, capable of handling my past and controlling my demons… I know that every episode will eventually pass, every heartache will go, and while soul-ache remains; I am certain that life is bittersweet.

I wish I can simply explain everything to the people who care, but I can’t or won’t. I have to fight this battle alone, I am not used to have someone under my skin, I won’t put my guards down, or share my darkest moments. I remember a friend said that I tend to use grand wording, because my feelings are quite huge. He didn’t know that he defined me, I am larger than life.

bcfc3ccd557300c0aba4aacfcef41486

Unknown artist

Advertisements

Revolution went personal… So be it!

This is one of the few times I decide to confront myself with many issues that I choose to ignore, trying to be “positive”-trying to be the girl “I used to be”-the one who would move around making everyone smile, regardless of her own personal struggle. Honestly, at this point I could smoothly disconnect from my pain and enjoy every beautiful moment with my buddies.

Almost 4 years ago my life was completely different, quite simple. I was the same outgoing crazy eccentric girl,who was looking deeply in despair for a closure, but she could just shine and smile regardless, isolate her pain deeply, making it unseen. I went to the square and joined the crowd, I never thought that this experience would change everything I am-the way I look to humans, the way I accept universe. 

My mother advised me a lot that joining the protests is not good for my mental state, not to mention being close to death.. However, I thought I am finally doing something.. I have passion for a bigger cause, as if all the personal goals were stripped out of my mind. The world finally made sense, and through all these crazy events and clashes, BLOOD AND DEATH, I finally got my closure, the questions that was graved in my heart years ago, are finally answered. Ironically, at this time it didn’t seem as important as it seemed before, seeing his face and looking into his deep blue eyes didn’t ache as I thought it would, maybe, because I was actually getting ready to go to the streets and join a protest, my mind was occupied with tear gas and live ammunition that talking to him after 2 and half years of searching in despair didn’t make any difference. Eventually, I got to answer a question he asked before “Could I make it on my own?” my answer was “Hell yes!”

Having said all of that and without digging deeper in the days of the lost revolution, this morning I found out that revolution is certainly a personal event, I am not the same person I used to be, and I truly miss that cheerful shiny girl and through my continuous trials to get her back, I end up stuck between the girl before January 25th 2011, and the girl I am today. My desires and aspirations remain the same on a personal level, but what happens everyday on a universal level makes me uncertain that anything can ever go right. I wish I could turn back the hands of time and cease every moment I had.. I wish it was easier to accept and believe that man-made traditions, religions and borders would eventually put as apart. I come to confess that your insecure dilemma is not different from mine.

To believe that being perfectionist is another mental struggle, to believe that going on and off from craziness don’t help. To accept that I will never be the same girl I used to be, and how can I after all these flashbacks of blood shed, betrayal and violence. Maybe I should let go of our secret shame, maybe I should relax and say “it’s OK” other than destroying myself. As I am writing this vague stories, I know you will only understand and relate, and we will remain silent. 

“This is the end, behind the corner he is watching solely, breathing her well being like a loath of the purest oxygen. On her land she still longs for a girl she used to be, connected to their memories and lost in their presence, not only for love but for when she was truly herself.” 

It’s endless secret addiction. 

Image


Letter to myself… Confessions II

Today started ‘ordinary’ with no single urge of doing anything, even work. I decided to watch a movie then maybe drawing; unfortunately I found out that I forgot my kit somewhere. As I am trying to fight my new demons that screams out ”life is pointless”.        I had a long conversation somewhere in my mind; trying to figure out who I really am.  Apparently its the remains of my egoistic rage towards September’s actions. I found out that seeking comfort comes with confronting yourself, however, we are not Saints, mistakes are meant to teach and improve us.

I have got to confess that I miss ” The old me ” when I used to be careless and spontaneous,  doing whatever I feel like doing with no further considerations. However, I am still satisfied with everything I encountered. ” Appreciate who you are and love yourself more ” I have been listening to this a lot lately, from friends who think I have gone too far recently by exposing myself to the wrong person. Nevertheless, what is life than dozens of wrong decisions that makes you everything you are..

What is love than millions of wrong choices until you fall in a chaotic place, that’s eventually meant to be your ultimate comfort zone.

What is happiness than beautiful memories that keeps us standing.

I love and appreciate everything I am, but there is a thread between self appreciation and narcissism, I am dealing with my egoistic dilemma already and I refuse to feed from narcissism.

__ And in the middle of that chaos, I discovered that I am in love with trees, I could stare at trees for hours, and paint each detail over and over again. I also found out that touching grass with my bare feet is quiet extraordinary. Eventually during my joyful lonesome I waited all day to lie on the grass, watch the stars; and listen to my favorite melodies with cig. in hand enjoying heavenly euphoric state.

Image


Recipe to Smile_

‘ I am losing my mind ‘

My soul was screaming to awaken my senses as I was sitting on the boulevard at Down Town_ Cairo, after my sudden anger towards my best friend, without a significant reason.  I did not know what do I want to do, or where I want to go. I just wanted to sit on the boulevard in the middle of the crowded street staring at the horizon, and seeking a clear answer to my current unacceptable state.

It did not get any better afterwards, regardless of the effort of  my amazing friends who did their best to figure out what’s happening to me, or simply to make the big smile on my face real.

I woke up this morning trying to get myself busy with my work. I have got to confess the day passed smoothly. Few hours ago I decided to start facing myself- reacting to single voice in my mind.

 ‘ I should not end up being like this ‘

I convinced myself for quiet sometime that this depressive state is quiet normal; due to my Borderline personality disorder & the seasonal change which penetrates my mood. However, the truth is this time it’s only about me & my chaotic path.

Happiness never lasts – just like sadness, the real struggle is to balance both in order to live as life shines out of your skin,    & In order to balance I decided to create my personal recipe of happiness, and just like my favorite cocktail ‘The secret is balancing ingredients’ 

September’s life-full recipe__

  • Opening up in a way that I rarely do (As my ego holds a dagger in my face) VS. A random encounter that energizes and freshens my day.
  • Disappointment in few people as their true colors take over VS. Amazing friends that became a real family who handle everything I am.
  • Crucial judgment & lack of understand VS. A fragile special person who stands still to hold your hand
  • My mood swings which affect my work VS. After mood swings hang over that comes with creativity
  • Meaningless argue and meaningless fight VS. Cigarettes, music and fresh breeze on the highway with a great company

Eventually I realize that life is beautiful even if somehow behind the corner of my mind_ I know it might be pointless, Yet my mortal struggle is to make the upcoming years worth living. 

 

Image

 

 


%d bloggers like this: