I think I’m actually afraid to lose my BPD. It’s what I’ve always known. I don’t know what it is to be anything else. Yes, it completely sucks, it drives me crazy, I drive me crazy, but it’s familiar. I haven’t been without it since I was very young. Who will I be without it?
I think this is one of the reasons I’m worrying about my medication. On the one hand I want to get better; I want to not feel so turbulent all the time. On the other hand I’m afraid of losing the only way I know how to be. The thought of having to figure out who I am is like walking blind through a door when I don’t know what’s in the room.
I’m prepared for the way I deal with things now. Granted they may not be healthy ways of dealing with things, but at least I know. What if I don’t recognize myself? I already have a hard time looking into a mirror and knowing that the person staring back at me is actually me. A reflection of my Self. Will I be able to recognize myself when there’s someone different staring back at me?
It shouldn’t be, but it’s scary.
If I stop my medication it will probably be a big step back. A way to self-sabotage my progress. I’ve done this a lot. Sabotage what I have in order to push it away. What’s more, I know I shouldn’t do this, but I still want to, still have the urge to.
I have this need to do it now, before it’s too late, before I’ve let slip who I’m used to being because the person I might become won’t feel the need to do this.
Even when I’m not so crazed I’m still not right. I go numb and dissociate from my sense of Self. During these times intense anxiety is often what I’m riddled with but I don’t feel in my own skin so it’s manageable.
I don’t know what it is to live without this. I can’t actually tell you what it’s like to feel happy, not for more than a few days before the grip of fear and anxiety take over again. I know I shouldn’t want this. It is exactly what I’m trying to stop. I’m not sure I want to stop now. Abandoning part of who I am. I don’t want to lose me.
This is causing me a lot of anxiety. The stomach knotted into my throat kind of anxiety. I’m afraid to let go.
Will I still be me?