They say the first step of combating your mental health is mindfulness. This was and still is the hardest part for me. Accepting who I am with BPD & how will I manage it moving forward. Being mindful nearly broke me this past year- & I’m still trying to heal while rediscovering who I’ve neglected in myself for the past few years.
My biggest flex in 2020 was that I started therapy and went every single week for 3 1/2 hours. Yes, you read that right. Peeling off the layers that buried my trauma for the past 20 years. I will admit, I’m still in the constant battle of relishing in the small victories while diving deep into the pit of endless regrets from my past behaviors. But that’s the thing about healing, it’s not linear. Baby, there are no rainbows and butterflies like the movies.. Self-care and healing isn’t just getting a pedicure. I wish it was that easy.
Healing is the contentment of both good and the bad. Read that one more time.
I had to recognize, how poorly I dissociated my perception of life as being so painful. I went full speed past every major moment because if I stopped putting those ducks in order for even a second — I wouldn’t be able to outrun my pain and trauma. Fight or flight mode.. google it — it’s actual thing. There’s nothing more daunting than realizing you’ve been living life in autopilot.
My life turned upside down this past year. I finally admitted that my marriage was a fraud. For the past year leading up to this, we talked over and over and over again that we don’t want the same future. The love we shared wasn’t fake but not the ‘IT’ love.. the love like when you know.. you know feeling. I accepted that he wasn’t the love of my life and though at times I hate myself for getting married so young, I am recognizing that it was supposed to happen. As much as I will always wish the best for him, I learned a crucial lesson during the divorce: that our marriage is the exact opposite of what I want in my life.
Trigger Warning: If you thought that was painful.. just you wait. I can’t believe I’m about to air out all this dirty laundry but hey that’s BPD.. oversharing at it’s finest. If I don’t talk about it- no one will and I wish someone did for me.
In one year, I had my longest known manic episode, engaged in risky behavior, played out self harm tendencies and an overdose. Even after the overdose, I tested my limits mixing substances to get off the roller coaster of emotions that I couldn’t stop. That’s the tricky part for me.. I don’t plan or go into the thoughts of hurting myself- I can clearly state I do not want to end my life. I want to live. I want to be a wife again- to the right man and a loving mother. But in those high highs and low lows.. I am willing to risk my life to make it stop. It’s awful. It’s a constant war between my heart and brain — I can physically feel the fight in my body. Wouldn’t you want it to stop? Evidently, I found myself attending 2 different outpatient/intense psychiatric treatments and on medical leave for over 2 months.
Trick question: Do you think the year got any harder? I’ll let you make that decision on the next chapter..
Probably at the absolute worse timing of my life but oddly the exact right time; I truly believe the right person came back into my life. Even if it’s not a happy ending- I’ll always have faith he will push through like the faith he reminded me I had all this time. He had seen every layer of Nikki for over a decade. Every phase, every failure, every win- he became a part of my support system. My friends and family supported me through every dark episode I dug myself into. I hope one day I find the solace they all carry elegantly during their own pain and return the favor when they are in need.
Damn, how did I get here? I try my best not to sulk in the misery of this past year, and remind myself what I think are my biggest weaknesses are actually my greatest strengths. Please remember that when you think of yourself. I constantly say this to myself, so for anybody else who needs to hear this just remember-however you survived is brilliant.
We can’t search for the person we were before the trauma took hold— because they no longer exist. So my loves; let’s grieve our old selves and stop fighting the new version whose screaming to surface. Take my hand and we’ll walk together.