How mental illness takes away my faith in the people I believe, including myself.
Being labelled with a personality disorder is a bitter pill to swallow for many, including me. Don’t get me wrong, when I was told my challenges had a reason, that I wasn’t simply ‘crazy’ and I could get help, it answered a huge number of questions, but it raised a few too.
Most people with BPD (or any other PD really) will know that anyone who hears about your mental illness will probably think about it first in everything you do. Cried because of upsetting news on the TV? Her BPD is playing up. Argued with your partner for failing to do something promised? She’s having another bad day. Questioned authority at work over something that concerned you? She’s having a crisis. Managed a great achievement? It’s brilliant she did this…despite her illness.
It never stops. Personality Disorder is either taking over or it’s a problem I’m overcoming. My mistakes, achievements, battles and happiness are always attached to my BPD label. I’d love to just be Steph, but it’s not possible, so I talk openly about the experience instead.
The National Institute for Mental Health (NIMH) describes Borderline Personality Disorder as…
…a mental illness that severely impacts a person’s ability to manage their emotions. This loss of emotional control can increase impulsivity, affect how a person feels about themselves, and negatively impact their relationships with others.
National Institute for Mental Health website, Borderline Personality Disorder, Accessed April 2024
What the people around me don’t realise is the effect this illness has on all of my relationships. Difficulty starting and maintaining them, paranoia over others thoughts about me, a deep-rooted fear of abandonment, and problems trusting people are amongst the worst symptoms I experience. When these difficulties occur, and are maintained for a prolonged period, I start to think this way about myself too.
My difficulty understanding emotions and dealing with mistakes always ends up breaking my perceived idea of trust. Maybe I place too much importance on being able to trust others, but I guess I’ve been so lonely and desperate that I have to believe what the person in front of me is saying, and trust that they will follow through with actions. When that fails, when someone doesn’t follow through on a promise or lets me down, my trust in them isn’t just damaged, it’s completely obliterated. It’s something that frustrates the few working with me, but I find it incredibly difficult to ‘deal with it’ any other way.
Of course, when that obliterated trust needs to be ignored so I can re-engage my emotions with the person in question, it’s impossible to do.
Why have I ended up here? Why do I find it so hard to trust people? More importantly, why do I find it so difficult to rebuild trust where it’s been lost? What causes BPD?
The NHS England website says there are several environmental foctors that seem to be the cause of Borderline Personality Disorder, including…
NHS England Website, causes – Borderline Personality Disorder, accessed April 2024
- being a victim of emotional, physical or sexual abuse
- being exposed to long-term fear or distress as a child
- being neglected by 1 or both parents
- growing up with another family member who had a serious mental health condition, such as bipolar disorder or a drink or drug misuse problem
In intimate relationships I used to have a single strike rule. Mistakes happen, let downs will occur, but my partner only got to make those mistakes once. On the second occasion serious questions would be asked and, on most occasions, it was the start of the end.
The ‘strike’ rule is common, but most people allow two or even three mistakes before even considering abandoning a relationship. Starting my relationships with a rule of only one was probably an early indication of trust issues, maybe more, but that’s only clear retrospectively.
Now I’ve dropped the strike rules completely. You let me down, I’m done. No conversation, no questions, no thoughts, just a severe problem engaging with that person again.
I like to think of myself as fair, and when genuine mistakes happen and people are honest about them, these rules don’t apply. I hope that people would afford me the same leeway. But if I’m hurt or someone I love is disadvantaged because of lies, misinformation or deliberate avoidance, then I get very frustrated. How do I deal with that broken trust? I take it out on myself. I don’t have a blowout with the person who I feel has caused the damage, I take the blame because I believe it must be my fault. Why else would it keep happening?
Suddenly a simple lie has turned into something highly triggering, and the effect on me can be really difficult to handle. Sometimes, on the occasions when I believe I’ve been deliberately betrayed by someone I love and trust, it’ll put me in crisis.
For others this stress might manifest in a different way. Being dangerously impulsive, abusive or anxious are amongst the ways it can unfold. Whatever happens, it’s painful for everyone.
Whether our brains are right or wrong to deal with it this way, why would we keep walking head-first into more of the same? Why would I deliberately put myself in situations where someone else might let me down? Why would I hand out my trust as freely as a double glazing leaflet distributor?
I wouldn’t.
I found myself in this situation several times recently, as I explained in a post last week. Multiple people I trusted managed to let me down and, crucially, they didn’t handle it particularly well. Shrugged shoulders, more lies and narrative changes were the standard responses. By the end of that week I was mentally exhausted, but I’d avoided further conversations about what happened. The fatigue was purely a bi-product of my thoughts and self hatred. Starting with…
‘If it keeps happening, then the problem must be me. I’m the common denominator.’
Followed by…
‘I’m not worth caring for. I’m not worth building trust with. No one gives a shit about me.’
And repeating…
‘I’m a burden to everyone. I hate myself. I wish I could run away. I wish I could hide and be alone. I don’t want to be here.’
Reading this back it sounds like I’m making light of a serious situation, but I’m not. This narrative might seem like make-believe, but it’s the reality for many of us living with BPD. Trigger after trigger after trigger leaves us in a spiral of self-doubt, and it plants a seed in our minds that easily grows to self-hatred…if it’s not carefully managed.
Which leads me to the point. As someone who lives with a personality disorder, I’d never judge or berate someone for reacting negatively to unexpected challenges, relationship breakdowns and betrayal. They are triggering, and we feel alone. However, there are ways of handling these situations that are healthier than the spiralling, negative internal narrative I’ve described.
First, planning is critical. Making sure you have the tools available when you need them will make it easier to use them and, lets face it, these unwanted moments can happen when we least expect them. If you start to feel these emotions spiralling then talk to someone you trust. If you are unsure who to speak to then a list of contact details for mental health and suicide prevention organisations can be found on this website. A calm box can be useful too – something used in schools to help children regulate their moods. The box can contain anything from squishies, fidget toys, art supplies, craft projects and notebooks – whatever might make you calm when you need it. The mental health charity Mind have a list of several more ideas that might help on their Borderline Personality Disorder self care page.
If you are in any type of relationship with someone diagnosed with BPD there are some things you can do to help them prevent these emotions. First, remember they want to be seen, heard and have their pain validated. Make time to talk calmly about the situation and actively listen and respond to what they have to say. You don’t have to agree with their thoughts, but showing that you’re listening might be very important to them. If emotions start to rise then try to distract them away from the situation – a list of ideas you could have ready are on my stress hacks page. Try not to focus on the disorder because, as I said at the start, it’s a label that doesn’t define them or your relationship, and it’s likely to cause frustration. Instead focus on their emotions rather than any angry words that might create friction. Most importantly, stay calm and collected. Sarcasm, jokes and defensiveness might fan the flames rather than dampen them.
And remember, the way someone with BPD feels is rarely a direct attack on you or your actions. As I’ve explained, all these reactions are the result of their own trauma that becomes a reason to disbelieve and mistrust the people around them. A person with BPD is responsible for their own actions, the same as anyone else. You can only support them as they try to manage their feelings.
So there it is. BPD is a complicated illness, especially when it comes to relationships, but what you see on the outside is only a fraction of the problem. Those of us living with its symptoms have a lot more going on in our minds than just the anger and frustration you might be experiencing. Understanding that our genuine fear of abandonment and lack of trust comes from a traumatic and honest place will create more empathy, and make any problems that arise easier to manage.
For more information on creative distractions, please visit the Creativity Opposing Painful Existence (COPE Campaign) page and, as always, thanks for reading.
Creative Steph 