Emoblog/2017/12/10/not quite borderline
The subject of borderline personality disorder (BoPD) came up, in relation to some of what I've been discussing here (feelings of emptiness, isolation, and so on). I don't think that's what I have, but there are some interesting points of overlap... and the results have been pretty devastating, generally.
Objective Analysis
On the one hand, there are some strong resemblances. On the other, there are some sharp contrasts.
BoPD | Me |
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What I'm dealing with seems related to BoPD, then, but clearly isn't the same thing.
It's nonetheless a thing; there's a very clear set of attributes which mark me as different from most people, and even from most people in the various emo-cognitive subclasses I fall into (autistic spectrum, ADD, transgender, CPTSD). Reiterating and expanding the points above:
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Subjective Effects
All of this tends to throw me emotionally out of synch with other people – not just people in general, but even specifically with the people I felt closest to, identify with the most, and feel are the most like me. It has basically made it impossible for me to have a really fulfilling relationship of any kind, because the best I can do is suppress those insecurities, try to follow the other person's cues as to how they'd like me to be around them, and get whatever amount of positive feeling I can by keeping things positive and functional.
As an early example, here's something said to me by a once-close friend:
Whenever I'm around you, I feel like I've got a neurotic-mother-hen hanging over me, following me around, making sure I don't trip and fall or disappear. [...] Sometimes I want [your company]; but the minute I walk in the door, you're RIGHT THERE staring me in the face, asking how I am and/or another multitude of such questions. And I can't even back away for a minute to think, and I get flustered, and then you're either sure that you did something wrong[2], or you won't believe me when I say I'm fine.
— SWPSNBSI[3], 1981-10-26
I remember more or less how I felt when she said this – a combination of shock, deep shame, and abandonment. In my mind, I was just being the way I'd want someone else to be for me. I wanted someone who was always "right there" as much as possible. My world felt like a very hostile place, where people could turn on me in a second or use subtle head-games in ways that made me feel terrible, and I desperately needed that sense of having an ally who wouldn't leave me alone when they didn't have to (e.g. to go to class and so forth).
I hadn't quite figured out that even people I trusted and who specifically said they were my friends didn't have this same need, this same sense of needing a constant ally.
Here's Jenny, saying much the same:
I think the big difference between me and you is that you live only for the existence of others – namely your friends.
— Note #113, 1981-11-21
I was apparently sufficiently worried about what I was hearing from both J and SWPSNBSI that Tigger felt compelled to say this in her 2nd letter to me, received just 9 days before what Jenny said above:
I remember forcing myself not to immediately seek interaction with them first thing in the morning. I remember sitting out on the deck a lot (instead of trying to interact with them) – feeling miserable and being accused of moping (not by either of them) at least once.
Whatever I did in order to change this dynamic, however, apparently was too little too late, and they both went away (J irretrievably, and SWPSNBSI understandably keeping a clear distance).
I've managed to maintain three close friendships (including Tigger) since then, over long spans of time[4], but only by denying myself what I wanted most.
At least I can now admit that I want it, instead of trying to suppress it as somehow wrong or ugly. (This has been a recurring theme of transitioning.) I can't expect it even from my best friends – but that doesn't mean they're bad friends, nor does it mean there's something shameful about wanting it.
Conclusions
The silver lining is that I can now look at all this without getting completely lost in that sense of shame and abandonment. If it does send me into a down mood, I can watch it happening without feeling a desperate need to delete myself for being so awful and useless. (I still feel it quite strongly, but it's not absolutely overwhelming the way it once was. I have much more of a sense of my own value now, even if it's still extremely underdeveloped.)
I'm still left with questions, though:
- Can I ever feel better?
- Does anyone else feel like this?
- Even if they do, is it possible to gain a sense of wellbeing from a mutual bond?
- ...or will we both/all just end up feeling empty together?
- ...or will we just suck each other dry?
Footnotes
- ↑ ...in order to have some hope of getting back into a situation where I can have the kind of interaction I crave, and maybe be happy. That said, I'm pretty sure I'm doing all this transition and emo analysis stuff (including the writing) for me – because it holds out the hope of possibly feeling content with myself for the first time ever.
- ↑ A nitpick: obviously I was doing something wrong, i.e. everything described here – but that doesn't negate her point. I was implicitly demanding a very intense and immediate style of interaction with which she was not at all comfortable.
- ↑ She Who Probably Should Not Be Specifically Identified
- ↑ now at 21 years, 28 years, and 16 years respectively