My ‘story’ is only part-written. In my early twenties, I guess I’m just embarking on the middle of the tale.
My memories from my childhood are strong and fine tuned. Watching Harry Potter can take me back to those moments of connection with a magical world and happy endings. I was always aware that I couldn’t cope things like other kids could or with people being mad/disappointed or unimpressed by me. Parents, friends; I couldn’t deal with rejection or criticism. I remember writing about how I wanted to kill myself…just because my mother and I had argued about something mundane.
I grew up as a bright, slightly chubby teenager. I was aware that my family wanted me to lose weight and be healthier. At University, I started a diet which saw me losing around 2 stone, and also started a seemingly life-long abnormal relationship with food and my body. I went through periods of not eating, to spending £100’s on food and binging on it, stashing wrappers under my bed in shame. As the weight went back on, I felt more useless than I ever had. But the funny thing was, I never realised I felt useless at all. I remember the desperation, needing to lose weight and have that measurable ‘success’ back on the scales.
5 years later, I have been bulimic for a while. A successful business woman on the outside, it has been difficult to convince people I need help. According to my therapist, this is all part of my self defence and ability to convince myself I’m okay. The issue I’ve found, is I’m not sure if I’m okay or not. I’m not sure who I am at all, let alone how I feel.
The one part of my identity that I have become certain of, is my passion to help others. I’m a natural people pleaser, rightly or wrongly, but trying to break the stigma surrounding mental health has given me something to ‘be’, a real part of my identity that I know can do some good.
I’ve recently been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder (recently as in this week!). Seeing the symptoms of the disease has given me both anguish and hope. Knowing I am not going mad (excuse the pun) is a huge relief. The symptoms of this disorder have consumed me for a long time, and being able to see them written down and reassured there is a reason for it – is similar to Harry learning how to defeat Voldermort. I guess I need to start hunting those horcruxes…
As I embark on an intensive course of therapy, I can only hope my story will end well. Success to me is being able to one day like myself. I will keep you posted on how I get along with that…!
What can someone learn from my story? I’m a successful twenty-something year old woman with a great job, degree and life; but everyone I meet and speak to each day impacts me greatly. Admittedly, more so than others (one of the symptoms of BPD is hypersensitivity to normal situations/emotions) however I really do believe that we should all strive to be kind to others always. Be empathetic. From the person serving you at the petrol station, to your family. Everyone has a story, pressure points and strengths, and often some things are hidden even from themselves. Be kind always.