You are important. You are loved. You are remembered.
No matter how big or how small your role was in protecting our great country, I thank you. No matter what position you held or what tasks you performed, I thank you. I thank you for giving your life, limbs, sanity and peace for this country. I thank you for dedicating seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks and years of your time constantly putting others above yourself. I thank you for your unwavering commitment to preserving the values of America and its people.
Whether you have stood in the line of fire, directed operations, provided medical treatment for others, or collected your dead and wounded peers, I commend you. Your bravery and loyalty to this country is something that can never be matched and the enormous mountain of gratitude from myself and like minded people could not be repaid in ten lifetimes, for that, I commend you.
I commend you for serving as a steadfast example to the people of this country, especially these days when young people no idea what personal price was paid and what sacrifices our veterans made to keep the rest of us safe and free. In my minds eye, a hero is a picture of someone who is immune to fear and always ready to fight the good fight on the side of righteousness.
Yet logically I know that no one is immune to fear, so I thank you for overcoming all of your doubt and all of your terror you surely battled within your own mind in order to serve the United States of America. I cannot imagine the kinds of experiences you have been subject to and how those experiences must surely change a person forever.
I thank you for being able to put your personal well being aside and fighting for the lives of so many people that you didn’t even know. Even the ones that ridiculed and insulted you. That to me has got to be the most selfless act in the world, at least in my humble opinion it is.
Each and every one of you are amazing people and individuals, such as myself, look up to you more than you’ll ever fathom. I turn to you and think of your many courageous sacrifices when times get tough or when I need a model of courage and strength.
Each of you inspire me to be the very best version of myself and to always think about others before myself. I understand how lucky I am to live the life I do. Safe from oppression and tyranny, thanks to you. I think about all of the physical and mental challenges that many of you face even years and decades later and I marvel at your perseverance. It is not even close to an easy life that you have lead and continue to lead but your mental toughness and intestinal fortitude gets you through it. It is quite nearly impossible, in my opinion, to reprogram your brain to think of others before yourself, but each one of you have done it. You are self-sacrificing, which goes against all primal instincts of the mind. Each of you are incredible assets to society and mankind.
I think you need to realize that many people love you, if they don’t love you then they should certainly respect you and if they can’t bring themselves to even do that, they need to get the hell out of this great nation of ours….there are many others literally dying to get in that would be honored to be here. Thank you so very much for loving your brethren and your country so very much.
I also want to personally thank my Father for his service to his country, both in America and abroad. What you did is amazing, and I look up to you on so many levels now that I understand the gravity of what you went through “going off to war”. I love you.
If any of you doubt your service to this country, just remember: you are important, you are loved, and you are remembered. I for one will #neverforget
Sensitive individuals, such as myself sometimes get a bad reputation for wearing our emotions on our sleeves.
However, there’s more to my personality type than just a bucket full of tears. Being a highly sensitive person also means having a higher level of intuition and empathy.
Trying to hold it together when I’m emotional
We are prone to crying, but not because we are fragile. It doesn’t matter if we are happy, sad, angry or moved, if we feel an emotion, we are likely shedding tears over it. This trait is something we are often shamed for but it’s actually a habit that’s rarely in our control: we feel more deeply and then react accordingly.
We typically rank high in conscientiousness, so that means more doling out of pleases and far less thank yous in return. We are more likely to notice when someone is not exhibiting good manners.
That whole constructive criticism thing
We may reflect on a critique or stern email from our bosses or peers for much longer than most. HSP’s find criticism extremely distressing and we internalize it much more frequently than our less sensitive counterparts.
Easily making a decision
Not Having to be told that someone is upset
Hearing people say sensitive like it’s a bad quality
We, HSPs, are called a lot of things: Too intense. Too weak. Too sensitive. Research shows that we can’t help ourselves. Studies have shown that highly sensitive people are actually biologically wired to be the way that they are.
For the record, I wouldn’t change being an HSP for anything💕💕💕
Should I, or anyone that I love ever have to use the services of hospice nurses, I pray that we are blessed with an angel like this one. This my friends is why you go into nursing, or any type of medicine for that matter. The care, love and compassion, radiates from this beautiful lady with the powerful angelic voice. Bless her.
As I watched this amazing rendition of our National Anthem, I couldn’t help feeling a great sense of unity and camaraderie between this “old white man” and a generations younger African American woman, as they sang. One does not see black and white. Old and young. One sees pride and love.
Why can’t every day people live like that? Politicians have pitted young against old. Men against women. White against black and vice versa to further their own agendas and pocketbooks. Far too many of them don’t give a shit about any of us regular everyday proud Americans and the rupture and divide they have caused with their bullshit rhetoric. I have girlfriends of many different races and ethnicities and religions. It is our differences that we love so much about one another. It is the thing that bonds us not divides us. We see that so clearly that we can’t understand why so many can’t. Or won’t.
That is the biggest problem that this great Nation faces. The inability of the masses or of the sheeple to see that our differences are an asset, not a liability.
1. What other people think
At the end of the day, happy people don’t care what other people think of them. They don’t care about the expectations of others because they’ve made themselves happy. Happiness comes from within.
2. Their past mistakes
Yeah, past mistakes stink. It’s important to remember them, to remember what happened, but happy people don’t dwell on them. They grow from their mistakes and move on.
3. Their failures
Same thing with past mistakes. You can grow and learn from failures, but happy people don’t dwell on it. It’s in the past.
4. What they don’t have
Happy people are largely able to look at the things they do have and feel grateful.
5. I’ll be happy when
Happy people are happy now! Anything awesome that comes in the future will be the cherry on top of their happiness sundae.
6. Their regrets
We all regret things, but happy people got that way because they were able to move on. In the end, their regrets do nothing but hold them back.
7. All of society’s expectations
Kind of ties into number one. Society expects so much of us.
It wants us to go to school, get a husband or wife, get a great job, buy a house, do all the things, and then quietly die without so much as a heavy sigh.
But happy people don’t care about any of that.
As a kid, I was labeled as being too sensitive. I was also pegged as the peacemaker in the family. I realize now that I was trying to keep the peace to survive.
As an adult, I’ve realized I’m an empath. I feel both the good and the bad in extremes, and as a kid, I was often overwhelmed with the emotions I absorbed from my own family, which wasn’t always a place of peace and harmony.
A few traits of empaths include being highly sensitive, needing alone time to recharge, being highly intuitive which sometimes results in giving too much of yourself, and most importantly, empaths absorb the emotions of other people.
It’s a curse to be the family empath. It was a curse as a kid, and it is a curse as an adult too. I’m trying to find ways to turn it around to my advantage, or at the very minimum, survive all these big emotions my dysfunctional family makes me feel.
As a child, I remember internalizing a lot of the negative emotions that existed between my parents. When they were stressed about financial obligations and marital problems, I was stressed too. When they fought, I was an emotional mess. Since I was just a kid at the time, I didn’t know what the heck an empath was. Instead, I was pegged as a crybaby.
Now that I’m an adult, I realize that it’s important as the family empath to practice self-care and find ways to cope when there are negative emotions around me.
Of course, being an empath isn’t all bad. I am a good friend because I empathize with others’ problems easily. When you’ve got good news, I’m over the moon happy for you. When things are moving along smoothly, I’m the most pleasant person in the world to be around because I tend to absorb the positive energy and reflect that in my mood.
When things go south, it sends me into a spiral of anxiety, and sometimes I can’t put my finger on why I’m in such a foul mood. I’ve finally learned to step back and analyze my emotions, find the source of the negativity, and do my best not to internalize the feelings and actions of others in an unhealthy way.
The roller coaster of emotions that I’m absorbing on any given day is a lot to handle. Sometimes, I just need a freaking hour (or 12) when I don’t have to feel everything. I need time each day to recharge.
The responsibility of trying to balance the emotions of all of the different family members is overwhelming at best.
So I have to be mindful not get sucked in by the wild emotions of the people I love. I want to take away their pain when they are sick, and I feel terrible for days after they have told me of any of their struggles. Of course, we always feel sad and angry when people we care so much about are struggling, but this goes beyond that. It weighs me down for far longer than it should.
I’ve learned to try to detach from what they are feeling, so that I don’t feel it so intensely right along with them. The problem is, the emotions I’m constantly regulating require fighting a battle with intense feelings not just daily, but sometimes, hourly, and that is the reason why being the family empath can feel like a curse. I have to constantly check myself, regroup, deep breathe, and remind myself that my family’s emotions don’t have to control mine.
If you’re not an empath, you probably have no idea what I’m talking about. You think I’m just a hot mess. You go about your day unaffected by those around you, but those that are empaths are fighting daily to regulate their emotions in an appropriate, healthy manner.
A phone call from a family member giving me some bad news can bring me down for the week, even if the news doesn’t affect me, and at 47 years old, I still find myself fighting the urge to get wrapped up in my parents’ issues and worries. I still feel the same way I did as a child, living under their roof, and trying to keep the peace for everyone.
I’m finding that the key to living your best life as an empath is to find balance, find time for myself (whether I want to or not).
On one hand, I love being able to feel so deeply, relate so intensely, and make others feel loved and cared for. That is a gift. On the other hand, sometimes I want to just take a freaking break and not feel like my world is going to crumble just because someone in the family is upset over something I have zero control over. For that reason, sometimes being the family empath feels like the ultimate curse.
So what is betrayal? Well you certainly know it when you experience it. It is a gut-wrenching experience, a searing knife into your heart. You feel it before you even think about it. Then when you start thinking about it it plagues you day and night. Betrayal is treachery, deception, and violated trust. It can appear in as a broken promise, duplicity, lies, sexual affairs, and even affairs of the heart. The injury is so great some people seem to never recover.
We are taught that to be truly happy in life we must learn to trust others. And so, often reluctantly, we let done our guard and we trust. When relationships become psychologically intimate, we have put our trust in another. We have made ourselves vulnerable to another person. We believe this person accepts us unconditionally, believes in us, and “has our back.” We cherish such a relationship because we believe our partner is understanding, faithful, and devoted in good times and bad. In a psychologically intimate relationship there is a powerful attachment and bond that is formed. Not only does this bond say to us we are understood, appreciated, and unconditionally accepted, it says we are safe. So powerful is this bond that there is evidence that the presence of a psychologically intimate partner can positively affect blood pressure and stress hormones. Psychologists have long known the deepest craving of human nature is the desire to be appreciated and to be safe.
Betrayal by an intimate partner violates these core human desires and needs! It destroys the core assumptions upon which all enduring relationships must rest. Dr. Jeff Lating and I have written extensively about the important role that violated assumptions concerning yourself and others plays in the development of PTSD.
Betrayal represents the traumatic death, not of a person, but of a relationship (familial, romantic or friendship). So as you might expect individuals who have been betrayed by a partner in a trusting psychologically intimate relationship experience many of the symptoms of PTSD. They will often report guilt, depression, psychological numbing, suspiciousness, hyper-vigilance, withdrawal from others, nightmares, and continually, almost addictively, reliving both the positive moments (longingly) and the negative moments (painfully) of the relationship, especially the moment of the revelation of the betrayal. Again as you might expect the betrayal engenders a terrible loss of self-esteem, the rise of self-doubt, the inability to trust again, and the desire to avoid ANY kind of close relationships in the future.
Why does betrayal trauma hurt so much?
Intimate bonding with another person serves an important developmental role. It enhances the chances of survival in an otherwise hostile environment. As a result there are biological substrates that support the formation of psychologically intimate relationships. The hormone oxytocin increases the likelihood of forming an intimate relationship. Deep within the center of the brain, the cingulate cortex is believed to play a role in fostering attachment and bonding with others. Betrayal is likely to adversely affect these substrates. We know that violated attachments result in a rise in the immunosuppressive and catabolic hormone cortisol along with an apparent hypersensitivity within the amygdalocentric fight and flight centers of the limbic system. The psychological injury of betrayal is likely to create a functional physical injury within brain that is very challenging to recover from. Betrayal trauma does not only psychologically damage a person. Science proves that it physically damages one as well.
Empaths are deeply sensitive individuals who are highly attuned to the emotions and energy of others. We can easily take on the emotions of others as our own. This can be a challenge when we have porous boundaries and end up absorbing the pain and stress of others. As empaths, we are sharply intuitive and are adept at reading people and situations beyond just surface level impressions.
You may have heard the term empath before. What does it actually mean? Is there any scientific basis for the term empath? Or is it, as some skeptics assert, a glorified term used to describe highly sensitive and intuitive people?
Even the most hardcore skeptic cannot deny that there are people in this world that are much more highly intuitive to the needs and emotions of others. People that can pick up on subtleties that others can’t, and seem to have a natural talent for it.
The idea of feeling what others feel isn’t exactly an unscientific one, either. Research indicates that emotional contagion, the tendency to “catch” the feelings of others, is more common than we think.
For centuries, researchers have studied the tendency for people to unconsciously and automatically mimic the emotional expressions of others, and in many cases actually feel the same feelings simply by exposure to emotions in social interactions. Studies have found that the mimicry of a frown or a smile or other kinds of emotional expression trigger reactions in our brains that cause us to interpret those expressions as our own feelings. Simply put, as a species, we are innately vulnerable to “catching” other people’s emotions.
Our mirror neuron system also enables us to instinctively feel what another person might be feeling when we see them performing an action. When we observe someone else doing something, the same regions in our brain which would’ve been involved in doing that activity become activated. In other words, they make our brains act as if we ourselves are experiencing whatever the other person is experiencing. The connection to empathy seems pretty clear.
What’s even more alarming is that a very small part of the population also have mirror touch synesthesia, a strange phenomenon in which visual and tactile senses get mixed up and some of us are able to literally feel their body being touched when observing someone else’s body is touched.
While most of us (aside from empathy-deficient individuals) have the ability to empathize, highly sensitive individuals make up approximately 15-20% of the population. HSPs have an oversensitive nervous system and seem to have an enhanced skill set in the realm of empathy. Perhaps, one could argue, an even better mirror neuron system. For the highly sensitive person, the parts of the brain that regulate emotions are simply more responsive than their less sensitive counterparts. There is great overlap between what it means to be a highly sensitive person and what society calls an empath.
There are incredible overlaps in the traits, capacities and experiences that empaths share that are undeniable.
We, as empaths or highly sensitive people, feel and experience the world a bit differently from most people and while you may not believe everything you hear about empaths, there is certainly room to research and explore what it means to be a highly sensitive and intuitive individual navigating in an increasingly empathy deficient world. While it’s true that some people are born naturally sensitive, many empaths like myself can also gain their abilities of intuition from their early childhood experiences. When one has been traumatized as a child, as I was, for example learn strategies to adapt and survive in a way that many other children do not.
As adults, we have the unique predicament of navigating a world that shuns and invalidates our experiences, while at the same time relies on us for our wisdom.
Much of what is written on being an empath focuses on the positive aspects of what it’s like to be an one, but there is a dark and powerful undercurrent to being an empath that is often not discussed.
Frankly, fully empowered empaths are badass emotional ninjas.
We empaths and highly sensitive people are emotional detectives.
Not only can we read the energy of a room when we first enter it, we are also extremely attuned to micro changes in facial expressions, shifts in tone of voice or how misaligned someone’s body language may be from what they are actually saying. The problem is that we’ve been gaslighted so often and told that we were too sensitive as children that we learn how to block out these insights as a way to become socially acceptable.
Remember many of us highly sensitive individuals had to learn how to survive in a war zone as children. That means we had to pick up on subtle signs, on even the tiniest changes in our environment in order to survive. I had to learn the exact tone of voice that indicated that Daddy was about to go into a rage so I could avoid it. I had to put out feelers for when my mother might hit me, or when the schoolyard bullies were likely to swoop in on the playground.
While this type of trauma can occasionally cause hypervigilance, it can also lead to a tremendous amount of intuition into the human condition. We empaths find that we are more often right than we are wrong and as we learn from our life experiences, what we once dismissed as paranoia turns out to be accurate reflections of what other people miss in their hurry to make decisions based on surface level interactions.
Our ability to pick up on the emotions of others in a manner that is adept and nuanced is unparalleled. When the energy in a room is high and vibrant, we feel the full glory of it. On the other hand, when there are emotional vampires lurking about with their pathological envy and their unwarranted spite, we feel the full shock of that too. We literally feel the life force sucked out of us quite quickly. Yet we can track subtle energies as well. We feel the undercurrent of an emotion in a person that others may miss, such as a hint of jealousy that tinges a person’s tone of joy, or a sense of anger in otherwise restrained speech.
We can usually tell when people are lying, even if it’s just lying to themselves. We can sense when something is off or feel strange sensations before dramatic shifts.
Some of us can even directly sense the emotions another person is feeling, though we may not know it at the time.
We can pick up on the contempt under someone’s niceties and we can feel when someone has a hidden motive. At the same time, we can also celebrate and feel the full impact of a person’s spirit when they are truly genuine. Our unusual insight into someone’s true character and how they really feel beyond their public facade has a habit of getting us into trouble, so we learn to stay quiet and compliant even though there is a riot inside that tells us otherwise.
Malignant Narcissists tend to prey on us because they know there is plenty of energy, resources and support to feed on. We can heighten the energy of those around us with the wealth of our emotional labor and ability to honor other perspectives. Narcissists see that special gift in us empaths and they seek to curate and collect the resources of the empath which could further aid their agenda.
When you think about it, toxic people can use us as a way to short circuit their way to success and circumvent their own need for healing. They use the compassion of us to get away with their toxic behavior without ever being held accountable for it. They exploit their willingness to adapt and their resilience to ensnare us into an abuse cycle, they benefit from being associated with a kind hearted, compassionate individual. It raises their social capital and value. They feast on our generosity as if it were a daily meal, without having to give much in return (narcissists, after all, are empathy-deficient individuals).
The strange thing about us is that we can get even the most unlikely person to open up and tell their life story in seconds without even meaning to.
This is because even though we often have broken hearts, we remain open-hearted by nature. People intuitively trust us because we also tend to wear our hearts on our sleeves. Even the most emotionally closed off empath often has slivers of open-heartedness, of bright light creeping out from the crevices of their person. That is what invites people to share their darkness with us.
Unlike someone who is not an empath, even the quickest of social interactions, if they are emotionally loaded with input from the other person, can lead to our quick depletion. There has to be a sort of “cleansing of the psyche” that has to take place after even just one interaction, and walls usually have to be brought up to protect ourselves.
We are multifaceted, complex and so are our emotions.
Empaths are not all light and love. Far from it. Many of us struggle with depression, anxiety, and self doubt due to our high sensitivity and receptiveness to taking on the emotions of others.
The intensity of the emotions we experience, whether these emotions are our own or residual energetic vibes from others, can leave us easily drained. Our emotions are part of an intricate web of our own perceptions and also the perceptions, reactions and emotions of others around us. If reading that sentence alone felt exhausting, congratulations, now you get a sense of how an empath feels on a daily basis.
Many highly sensitive individuals can resort to numbing activities to block out our heightened emotions so we don’t have to confront the weight of our own pain.
Empaths and highly sensitive people are natural caretakers, so we gravitate towards doing what we feel will best help the person that we are interacting with. We anticipate emotions and reactions of others which we had to do as children in order to survive.
Most importantly of all, empaths must learn that we are allowed to own our shadows, the darkest parts of ourselves lend great insight about how to integrate various aspects of ourselves to become whole. This doesn’t mean giving into that darkness, but using it as fuel to create more light in the world rather than repressing it.
So now you know how it feels to be me♥️
I’ve only been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) for a couple of years now, but I’ve known that the way I see love is very different than most for quite a while. Love and feelings are something I’ve struggled with since childhood. I feel everything strongly, give completely, love extremely. When I say I love someone, I have strong feelings. I often admire them, respect them, enjoy spending time with them and see them as so much more than I see myself. I’d risk and even sacrifice myself for the people I love and their happiness. I’d do anything, move Heaven and Earth if needed, to help out the people I love. To me, that’s what love is: unconditional companionship, care and admiration. It’s that feeling of uncontrollable smiles when you see those people happy, or indescribable pain and sadness when you see them cry. It isn’t physical attraction or sexual interest: that’s lust and completely different to me. It isn’t just blood — love knows no boundaries.
I am learning these are common struggles for people with my history and diagnosis. I think these difficulties are why I struggle with boundaries and often do or say things that don’t make sense to most people in relation to my friendships and relationships. These struggles also lead to negative responses like jealousy, rage, disappointment, rejection and heartache. I wanted to share what love looks like for me.
I love extremely
People may say I got to extreme lengths to show my love. I crave physical touch, so I hug often. I desire validation and dedication, so I frequently say, “I love you” when talking to those I love. I give gifts for anything and nothing. I will message or call my friends almost daily just to let them know I care or to check on them. Some might say I smother, and some get uncomfortable when they mistake my version of love for something else (like romantic interest). I just feel with such intensity that I sometimes cannot control my feelings or keep them inside. I also don’t understand boundaries or ambiguity, so sometimes I mistake the gestures or actions of others for love and end up caring much more for someone than they care about me.
I love unconditionally
Another part of my love deals with being ignorant of flaws. I fear abandonment and failure, so often I am willing to look past what others may consider to be unhealthy or undesirable behaviors or habits. I find myself willingly accepting giving more than I get, taking mistreatment or abuse and just letting others walk all over me. The benefit of this is that I always feel empathy and can forgive, but the negative is I have low self-worth and sometimes don’t even see there is an issue with the friendship.
I love through jealousy
Because I love with such intensity, I often find myself getting jealous. I become upset or angry when I see a picture of some of my friends on social media hanging out without even asking me or I question when I see my husband has a text message from a female co-worker. I may express this jealousy outwardly to the people I love with aggression or sadness. Usually this outward expression of jealousy serves two main purposes: to try to “prove my love” to the person and to try to manipulate the person into giving me attention.
I love through heartache
Unfortunately, a common problem for me is that I find myself in a position where relationships and/or friendships become broken and end quite frequently. I struggle to let go, I try to live in the past and I spend lots of time being heartbroken over the loss of a friendship. I’ll continue to listen to songs that remind me of the person, look at pictures of them and even sometimes try to contact them even after the friendship has ended. Even through the pain, I still love the person and can’t stop. Some may say this helps in some way, but often it leaves me hurt as I watch people move on in life without me, sometimes it leads to damaging things even further because I don’t understand boundaries or confusing signals.
I am learning through my therapy that there are flaws in my view and understanding of love. I am not saying this rationalizes or justifies my actions, but it does help me make sense of my feelings. I’m learning how to regulate my emotions, maintain healthier relationships with defined boundaries and live in the present moment. I’m hoping with time that I can continue to be passionate and love, but avoid undesirable traits that cause the instability and heartache. Isn’t that what everyone wants? To love and be loved without pain or suffering?
It’s easy for people with Borderline Personality Disorder to feel like they are the victims of a very cruel curse. This personality disorder is often characterized by an intense fear of abandonment, unstable relationships, and impulsive behavior that ultimately drives people away. BPD makes me lash out, allowing some of the cruelest things to tumble from my mouth, and believe me, there are only so many times loved ones will forgive a lack of control. This is what it’s like to live with this horrific disorder which many uneducated on the subject suspect is “all in our minds”.
It is hard to offer a simple medical definition of BPD, but I’ve heard it brilliantly summed up as chronic irrationality. Think severe mood swings, impulsivity, instability, and a whole lot of explosive anger.
People with BPD may project symptoms that seem similar to other personality disorders, it is often confused with bipolar, depression, schizophrenia or anxiety disorders:
Borderline personality disorder (BPD) is a serious mental disorder marked by a pattern of ongoing instability in moods, behavior, self-image, and functioning. These experiences often result in impulsive actions and unstable relationships. A person with BPD may experience intense episodes of anger, depression, and anxiety that may last from only a few hours to days.
BPD sufferers may experience extreme mood swings and can display uncertainty about who they are. As a result, their interests and feelings about any recent event can change rapidly.
According to NIMH, symptoms include:
- Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment
- A pattern of intense and unstable relationships with family, friends, and loved ones, often swinging from extreme closeness and love (idealization) to extreme dislike or anger (devaluation)
- Distorted and unstable self-image or sense of self
- Impulsive and often dangerous behaviors, such as spending sprees, unsafe sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, and binge eating
- Recurring suicidal behaviors or threats or self-harming behavior, such as cutting
- Intense and highly changeable moods, with each episode lasting from a few hours to a few days
- Chronic feelings of emptiness
- Inappropriate, intense anger or problems controlling anger
- Having stress-related paranoid thoughts
- Having severe dissociative symptoms, such as feeling cut off from oneself, observing oneself from outside the body, or losing touch with reality.
Ordinary events may trigger these symptoms. For example persons with BPD may feel angry and distressed over minor separations, such as vacations, trips, or sudden changes of plans, from people to whom they feel close. Research shows that people with this disorder may see anger in an emotionally neutral face and have a stronger reaction to words with negative meanings than people who do not have the disorder.
I personally think it’s this erratic oscillation that makes BPD so hard to communicate, particularly to those who are close. Because on the surface, it looks like I’m just being ornery. Like all mental illness, it’s best treated with patience and empathy, unfortunately, like depression or hypomania, it places the onus on people who are not necessarily in a position to help or understand, no matter how much they may care for you. In a relationship, BPD can leave both parties feeling isolated, angry and misunderstood.
Borderline Personality Disorder sends you into spirals of self-doubt and hatred. It makes you feel like a tangled slinky, forever bumping inelegantly down a flight of stairs. You know something within you is twisted, and even once you’re told what, you are left wondering why and more importantly HOW to deal with it.
Just living or being around someone with this personality disorder can be extremely difficult and exhausting. It especially brings out my mean streak, something that both terrifies and shocks me. I’ve always had an eloquently devilish way with words, particularly profane ones, and BPD is like I have Terminator vision that highlights the chinks in EVERYONES armor, unlike my mania, which tends to make me charismatic and for the most part, a pleasure to be around. A BPD ‘turn’ or ‘moment’ morphs me into the meanest, most evil, crudest version of myself.
Due to the impulsiveness associated with people who suffer from BPD, they tend to change jobs frequently and also abruptly cut ties to people with whom they are extremely close. We sufferers have intense and sudden mood changes, and we have severe difficulty regulating our emotions. Unintentionally, we tend to blame others when we make a mistake, which makes it seem to the ones that we care about the most that we are being manipulative and cruel.
BPD can make life feel unbearable most days. Ones “good days” seem so few and far between. I call it a mirage illness, as it makes you feel like someone with no fingerprints. No face. No identity. Onlookers may be tricked into viewing you as boldly transformative, in reality, you are someone with absolute zero sense of self.
It is very hard for those with BPD to have successful and healthy relationships and stable confidence levels. Our version of ‘logical thinking’ is more often than not, overthinking. We have a very hard time distinguishing between real issues or imaginary issues. BPD is considered to be one of the more serious mental disorders, as it causes a great deal of suffering and has one of the highest risks for suicide of all mental health patients.
This is a lifelong battle that over the last couple of years I have prepared myself to fight.
I will never be cured of BPD, but I believe my disorder does not own me. This is my life, and I know it can be beautiful.
From the inside.
I’m not going to lie. We as parents can sometimes be cruel mother fuckers when it comes to our own selfish wants (a stupid picture) and our comedic entertainment (because y’all know good and damn well the harder and louder your kiddo screamed the funnier it got).
That’s not even mentioning that every one of our childhoods was predicated on a lie (trust issues much?). Yet we keep this bullshit up generation after generation. I’m sure once the millennials start having families, all of this aspect of familial trauma will stop dead in it’s tracks. Perhaps they can provide a kiddy safe space for snowflake children, that just can’t sit there and scream bloody murder for the 30 seconds it takes to snap the damn picture. Back in the day we did get a coloring book and a four pack of crayons (small consultation for literally having the shit scared out of us), but we survived it. My parents didn’t have baby proof outlet plug ins, cabinet latches, or leashes to keep up with the three of us at the mall. All we needed to stay close to mom was the threat of an imminent ass beating from dad. We were like ducklings in a row.
We rode our bikes without helmets, played until the street lights came on and drank piss hot water straight out of the garden hose and it appears all of us have made it through all of that “trauma” into adulthood.
The only thing I’m super pissed about is the big LIE. Santa, The Easter Bunny, The Tooth Fairy. Really?? Parents probably get the smallest amount of credit for anything in a child’s life. Looking back I should’ve told my kiddos, mommy and daddy worked our asses off to buy you ungrateful little shits all of this stuff. If you don’t get your act together, no more shit for you!!
“Santa is watching you.” No you little booger factory, ankle biting assholes, MOMMY is watching you and mommy is like the deep state, I watch you on your monitors, I listen in on your phone calls, I check your computer history AND have your text logs printed out through the cell phone company. Mommy IS Big Brother. That should scare you more than some drunk homeless dude or perv dressed up in a Santa or Bunny suit for twelve hour shifts so he can have enough money for his own Easter Basket filled with Booze, mind altering substances and some naked Whores wearing bunny ears, a tail stuck to their ass, platform shoes (try hopping in those bitches) and nothing else.
What can I say, I’m a realist.
Happy Easter, Y’all♥️
Justin Bieber is lashing out at Laura Ingraham after the Fox News host mocked slain rapper Nipsey Hussle on her show.
— Read on hollywoodlife.com/2019/04/18/justin-bieber-laura-ingraham-nipsey-hussle-diss-fox-news/
Politically speaking, Justin Bieber couldn’t find his asshole with a flashlight. Nobody gives a shit what you or Mrs. John Legend think, Biebs!!
Everyone is ENTITLED to their own opinion, that’s why crybaby’s such as yourself are given airtime. Someone please tell me when did our once great, proud nation turn into a bunch of poontangs?? I agree what Laura said to some could be viewed as inappropriate or insensitive, but the song Fuck, Donald Trump isn’t?? It’s also a fucking OPINION!! Jesus Christ!! If I got fired, kicked off of WP or whatever for voicing my opinions, I’d be an extremely fired mother fucker.
Dear All Crybaby’s,
Go find a “safe space” together. Cry it out, talk it out or circle jerk one another for all I give a shit but please for the love of all that’s good and right, shut the fuck up!!!!
I used to think that animals eating their young soon after birth was icky and awful. In recent months I’ve totally reversed my opinion on such matters. As my husband and I went from happily peaceful empty nesters to having our 21 year old son, his pregnant fiancé and his sixteen year old daughter plopping down roots in our nest. Please don’t mistake what I’m saying, I adore ALL of our combined six children and their significant others but Jesus Christ on a Segway, these have got to be the 3 messiest people on the god damn planet. My being EXTREMELY OCD when it comes to order, cleanliness and germs does not help matters as I am currently hovering on the cusp of a complete nervous breakdown at any given moment. Some days they make such a mess as I run myself ragged constantly cleaning up after 3 grown ass kids, every once in a while I just wish we would have just eaten them at birth!!!
Oh and the noise, having Borderline Personality Disorder and being hypersensitive to the noise, activity and chaos keeps me in a nervous frenzy. Half the time I’m shaking so hard I look like I have a palsy of some sort.
Big brother yells at teenage sister (he’s 6’4, wears a size 13 shoe, is like having a bull in a china shop) with a big giant voice to match. Sixteen year old sister gets pissed off and ding, ding, ding Round 1!! Within no more than 45 seconds she’s shrieking like a cacophony of fucking tea kettles in Buckingham Palace at tea time and I’m headed for the Xanax. Good Times!!
Some may call this fucked up or cruel. Those same people have never raised teenagers😂
I love my bigs and littles more than a fat kid loves cake and they KNOW it♥️
I know I’m waaayyy out of line in my A-Z Challenge. I tried and I failed miserably at keeping up. Doing things on a “schedule” has never been a very strong personality trait of mine. On the other hand I’ve realized and accepted that I’m a flawed human being and I’m cool with that.
Aaahhh, P, not the letter. The urine variety. I recently noticed when some of you have me doubled over in fits of giggles with your posts and/or comments, I tell you I think I pee’d a little, I AM NOT speaking metaphorically.
I realized just how many times a day I say this and what normally causes it (for the record I change clothes in the event something like this happens. I don’t walk around pissy all day). The main causes seem to be laughing, sneezing, coughing, straining to hard when I yell FUUUCCCCKKK at the top of my lungs, hiccuping and God Forbid, I have Poot Wars: Legion of Doom with my teenagers (yes I’m the coolest mom EVER, although my kiddos would surely debate that) I might as well put on fucking Stage 47 Pampers Waddlers. If I’m straining that hard there’s DEFINITELY going to be pee involved.
This morning as I was mulling this over in my crazy mind, I had a revelation of sorts. That we woman, as a gender have so many more indignities (natural and otherwise) inflicted on our persons during the course of our lifetimes than our male counterparts.
There is menstruation, the blossoming of bosoms, Pap smears, annual gynecological visits, childbirth (hence the peeing).
Men try pushing something the same weight as a small bowling ball out of anywhere south of your belly button. Unmedicated. Then we can compare war stories.
After child bearing and rearing years comes the annual mammograms (bro’s stick your twig and berries between two flat plates and squeeze just a little to have a tiny inkling of what that’s like), because these people are not just putting a ladies breast in between those plates, those cruel fuckers are pulling back fat around front and everything.
Then comes the peeing every time you make a move and then the mother of ALL indignities, Menopause. Just because women of a certain age normally speak of this in hushed tones amongst ourselves does not mean it is to be taken lightly. Actually we huddle together and speak of it quietly because menopause is Lucifer, Māra or Iblis depending on ones beliefs. We do not want to bring this evil thing up from the fiery depths by speaking its name too loudly.
Hot flashes?!?! If you ever want to know what being roasted alive on a funeral pyre or spending at least 10-60 minutes in actual hell feels like, have one of these. Simply put, hot flashes are the devil. So by my age us women are having annual intrusions in our lady bits, boob squashings and hot flashes. If that is not enough indignities, around this time in life most women have to start having colonoscopies as well and if you are a gentleman that’s 40ish or older you are probably at least familiar with this one. So next time one of you guys is feeling icky about some “medical” procedure, just reread this blog post.
I should think that having another man softly cradling your balls and telling you to cough every so often for a physical or an after 40 occasional lubed, gloved finger gently inserted into your butthole qualifies you guys to bitch about ANYTHING ever again.
This excludes any of you fellows with legitimate medical complications or chronic health issues. I’m speaking in generalities about Mr. Everyday Joe (the ones that generally do the MOST bitching about anything medically related).
I’m not some raving, lunatic feminist as I’ve never marched in Washington, DC dressed as a giant vagina. As a matter of fact I thought that was the most idiotic shit I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Just think of the outcry if men wore hats with balls and a penis sticking off the top of them to protest something. Jesus Christ, it would be complete and utter anarchy.
Before any raving, lunatic feminists or anyone else that does not like my opinion try to attack me or mine by surrounding my home and trying to scare me by acting like a bunch of assholes let me warn you, if you are in my yard I will drop every one of you like a sack of of shit with my LTL “beanbag ammo” (don’t let the cute name fool you, anything coming out of a 12 gauge shotgun at 205 mph will make you rethink your position, quick, fast and in a hurry). For any slow learners that actually have the audacity and ignorance to break in and actually make it inside my home, it’s open season on you fuckers. My newest baby is a Smith & Wesson Model 500 X-frame revolver. For those of you that are unfamiliar with firearms this is one badass MoFo for one badass bitch that got knocked asshole over elbows the first few times at the range but has become quite accurate since. This gun is not for the faint of heart. I’m a southern girl from a long, long line of military and Law Enforcement Officers. I’ve been familiar with and shooting firearms since I was 10 years old. I’m an expert marksman and a FIRM believer in my 2nd Amendment rights as a US Citizen. So in closing for any nutjobs out there….PLEASE, PLEASE Come at me, bro!!
I apologize for straying so far from my original blog topic, but as I was voicing my opinion about the vagina costumes, I started thinking about all of the elected officials being run out of public establishments or having their homes surrounded (Tucker Carlson, with his wife and children inside) by ignorant assholes that think that there can be only one opinion. Theirs.
Hence the anger and tirade. I can assure you that no one is running my ass out of anywhere for having a fucking opinion. Corner me and my fight or flight instinct kicks in and since I weigh entirely too much to take flight, that’s ass if anyone actually makes an unauthorized entry INTO my dwelling intent on harming my family or myself.
Happy Thursday Y’all♥️
Obviously if you read my posts, you know that I’ve had a distressed, depressed past couple of days. I don’t know if it just worked out that way because of my BPD, or because since I turned forty I tend to get a bit melancholy around my birthday and I knew mine was imminent. Today is the big day and I’ve wrestled with how I should be feeling all morning.
Perhaps it’s because I never achieved the success I dreamed of when I was younger, or the fact my littles have grown into bigs that have had littles themselves, or any number of vain, vapid things….I have finally decided that this year I choose to be grateful. Although I’m not rich and/or famous, I have a rather large blended family that loves me for me despite my craziness. My littles have grown into amazing bigs that are already and also in the near future making a difference in this world. I have four happy, healthy, gorgeous grandsons and another sweet little on the way that are my heart and soul. My husband is not perfect and sometimes I feel like he doesn’t treat me like I should be treated but guess what?? The same thing could be said for me. He fucked up early in our relationship. So did I, perhaps not in the same way but equally as seriously. When it comes right down to it, he puts up with me and my tumultuous, unpredictable illness like a pro, he works his ass off to make sure that I don’t have to because the Borderline Personality Disorder makes that damn near impossible. All in all I’d have to say I’m truly very blessed in all of the ways that matter. Today was a good day to be born forty seven years ago♥️
Those who fight ANY kind of mental illness deserve a medal. My particular form of mental illness is Borderline Personality Disorder. It is up there with the mother of all CRAZIES! It has destroyed friendships, relationships; with my children, my family and essentially my whole life.
If it were not for this wretched beast that lies coiled up inside of me where my soul is supposed to be, I could have been so much more. Done so much more. Saved so much more. I listen to my doctor. I take my correct meds. Read everything I can get my hands on in regards to it, but NOTHING, helps.
Are there truly such things as lost causes? If so I AM ONE. As I type this blog post, my vision keeps blurring at the notion of how calm and peaceful my life could have been if I were not one of the Chosen ones to spend a lifetime of suffering grievous wounds that no one can even see.
This is a photo of myself and my BFF, Deb, taken a little over five years ago.
That night as we sat sipping our beers, listening to some great music and shaking our tail feathers and laughing until we cried because we are both people watchers and HUGE smart asses and boy did we have a plethora of drunk assholes and desperate whores to make fun of that particular evening.
Who would have EVER fathomed just a few short years later, I would be watching her die.
As Deb becomes sicker and sicker with her terminal cancer, I always pull out this picture to remind myself how quickly your entire life can change. Practically in the blink of an eye.
My dearest Debbie,
I’ll be by your side until we kick this cancers ass, or I will gently hold you as you transition into another journey, but make no mistake, I’ll be there until the sweet bitter end if it comes to that. I’ll never let go!! I love you Deb♥️
The hardest things for me to deal with as someone with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) are my emotions and their effects. So often I feel completely powerless to them. Most days I feel like everything is dialed up to 11 and if I feel something, I’m going to feel it completely.
For most people, emotions are like waves. We ride the ups and downs, weather the storms and hope we’ll wash up somewhere sunny after it’s all over. Well, you know that scene in “Cast Away” when Tom Hanks is desperately clinging to his deflating dinghy as gigantic waves throw him around? That’s exactly what it’s like for me when an emotion takes over. I close my eyes and hide my head until hours later, I finally tumble onto some forgotten island, alone.
And the most frustrating thing about all of this? It’s that the thing that gets me in the dinghy in the first place, my plane crash — it can be anything. It can be as simple as someone not texting me back or canceling plans — or as complicated as something completely unknown to me at the time.
Let’s say someone cancels plans… Even if they let me know and have a genuine excuse, my head can spin off in every direction.
They don’t like me anymore, or maybe they never did. They’ve finally had enough of me. I’m unworthy of anyone’s time and attention. If I would have just been a better person, this would never have happened.
Everyone knows what it’s like to think the worst, but imagine that feeling times 10. Imagine that feeling completely gripping you for hours, pulling you under until you no longer see light, just darkness all around as you suffocate and struggle. You want to get back to the surface, but shedding the weight of your emotion takes time. You’re helpless.
Marsha Linehan, creator of Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT) once said, “Borderline individuals are the psychological equivalent of third-degree-burn patients. They simply have, so to speak, no emotional skin. Even the slightest touch or movement can create immense suffering.”
Not long ago, I found the above quote in a medical article. When I read it, I felt the words strike me so deeply inside. That protective layer most people have that stops the little things hurting from hurting them — I don’t have that. Whether it went away through childhood trauma or difficult teenage years, I don’t remember. All I know is that for a very long time, I’ve had massive reactions to anything that hurts me.
“Why are you so dramatic?”
This is something people with BPD hear many times and the truth is simple — we’re not being dramatic. At least, not to us. It’s not an overreaction to us because the little things hurt like the big things. There’s little difference when you’re so raw and overexposed. I can’t help what hurts me or how — no human being can do that. That being said, I am striving to heal.
Though I am not ashamed of my mental illness, I am still trying to recover from it. I don’t want to have these reactions. I don’t want to get ground down into the earth by emotions. I don’t want to cry for hours. I don’t want to hate people I love. I don’t want to be a prisoner in my own mind. I want to get better.
I’m not ladylike enough. I swear to much. I act like I have a penis because I make the whack off motion far to often to not literally have one. I’m rude, crude and obnoxious. I am not a lady in any sense of the word. I turn some that are closest to me, stomachs. Being “too much” me does not sit well with some members of my family to the point that they are ready to disassociate with me.
You win, family. Like you’ve always won. Like you always will win.
I’ll tone it down to be ” a better daughter, mother, wife and grandmother,” since being myself is so horrifically awful.
Gee, I wasn’t aware I was THAT bad. I mean I knew that I had a tiny bit of feces with me but, “Boom, Pow,” I have a BPD meltdown because I ran out of meds, my phone has been off since I overspent a bit on the family fish fry that I wanted to be PERFECT and well, “I must learn somehow that there are consequences and repercussions for my actions.”
Soooooo my kind, encouraging followers, your children may now read my blog if they so choose because to keep the peace from now forward my blog will be G-rated so I can learn to be more of a lady.
Thank you to my peeps in spite of my uncouth, unladylike ways.