Birthdays, Christmas and BPD

My birthday is on Monday, the 23rd of December, I don’t have memories of birthday parties or presents from childhood friends. Christmas, when I was a young child, I remember family, playing bingo, laughter and memories. Living with BPD, I can tell you that the last few years, I’ve spent alone, sad and depressed.

My spouse is leaving for the holidays on Sunday, to spend it with his family. I’ve put out a request to my cousin to spend Christmas dinner with her and her family.

This time of year sucks, always has for me more so as an adult, on top of BPD, my mood swings have been really severe. I’ve swung from being super angry, to feeling intense emotions on the verge of tears, yet nothing happens.

The only thing that keeps me grounded is my pets, without them, I would be nothing.



BPD and Control

As we are approaching the on slot of the Christmas Season, I have seen photos stream through my Facebook page of my sister’s freshly put up Christmas tree and I feel pain in my heart. Tonight I see a photo of her with her husband and friends celebrating birthdays (Her’s is the 9th and I am the 23rd of December). I keep her on my friend’s list because I want to know how my nephews are doing. I want to be able to see photos of them and their accomplishments. 

But each year, the heartache continues to fester, the same resentments resurface over and over, like a train wreck that just keeps happening.

I’m not on Facebook with my mom, that became severed some time ago. 

All my life I have wanted to fit in, to feel a part of my family. If my mother and my sister are reading this, please don’t say “you were” or “we never took that away from you.” What you did is you walked away from me and left me stranded and alone. I have been told to “let go of the past and move on” or “to do what I need to do for me to heal”. What you don’t understand is the little girl inside of me, won’t let go. She becomes louder at certain times of the year. So with my sister’s birthday around the corner, I reflect on our childhood and the laughter and fun we had on our special day. 

Being able to enjoy our day of birth, picking what we wanted for dinner, opening presents with our mom and no chores for the whole day! My sister always chose chicken and dumpling stew that my mom would make from scratch. I would usually choose scalloped potatoes or shepherd’s pie that mom would make from scratch. These to me are positive memories, ones that you reflect on and smile. 

Instead what I struggle with is being without my family, by their choice. I’ve been told that there is a lot of anger at me for things that have happened. I even remember being told that if I “hurt” my mother again, that I would be permanently removed from the family. Funny, what about me? Did I ask for a mental illness? Did I ask to be left alone, to flounder in confusion as I had memories come to me in dreams and desperately asking my mom if what I was seeing was real or made up? I made a conscious choice to find the real root of what is wrong with me and in 2011 I finally have an answer… its called Borderline Personality Disorder with Bipolar Traits. Is it a serious disorder, yes. Can you recover, with a lot of work and consistency the average recovery is about 6 years before you are deemed “recovered”. 

The control I feel inside I want to let go. I don’t want to feel afraid that if I let any ounce of control, that I will have nothing to catch my fall. Sure, there is a freedom to not having control of many things in life, but I don’t have control of my mom and my sister. Two people I miss more than anything in this world. No matter what I do, whether I choose to celebrate the Season, and to be honest I haven’t in years. I often hibernate and isolate. I will be with my dogs and cats because they make me feel safe and loved unconditionally. 

I can her the words “well its her choice”. Maybe so, but after years of being let down, destroyed emotionally, I’d rather be alone. 

So now I am researching how to let go of control and be ok with letting it go. At the moment, the very thought of it, causes my anxiety to rise, my heart begin to beat faster, my breathing   changes and yet the little girl inside of me, cries….. she cries because no matter how often I soothe her, she still misses her family.