per·son·al·i·ty dis·or·der

noun

Psychiatry

noun: personality disorder; plural noun: personality disorders

1. a deeply ingrained and maladaptive pattern of behavior of a specified kind, typically manifest by the time one reaches adolescence and causing long-term difficulties in personal relationships or in functioning in society.

I’m sure you’ve heard of personality disorders. I’m certain you know people with personality disorders. Generally, in the mental health field, they are viewed as very difficult to treat, some more so than others.  These diagnoses used to fall under something called “Axis 2” under the old DSM and there can be some judgements that come along with that. There aren’t medications that fix personality disorders. Medications can help to control some symptomology, but mostly personality disorders require a shit-ton of therapy and dogged work on the part of the patient.

I’ve never officially been diagnosed with any personality disorder, but I certainly have my share of traits of several of them. (PSA: Every human being has certain traits of various personality disorders. Every stinking one.) Obviously, these traits tend to come more to the forefront (or, as my psychologist phrases it, “the traits become activated”) when a person is under stress or dealing with a heightened amount of depression or anxiety due to chemical shifts or crappy life events.

My whole life, I’ve struggled with feelings of abandonment, an emptiness in my soul, and chronic suicidality. Some people probably would’ve diagnosed me with borderline personality disorder. In the mental health field, that’s a heavy diagnosis to carry. Neither my current psychiatrist nor my current therapist are willing to slap that diagnosis on me at this point but do admit that, depending upon what’s happening in my life, those traits can move to the forefront.

Here’s the thing: I have worked very, very hard over a very long period of time to address some of these traits. It doesn’t mean that I’ve conquered them, but I’m generally more aware of when they’ve become activated, and I’m getting better at thinking before I react out of intense emotions. The chronic suicidality, in particular, I have made great strides with. Suicidal thoughts almost NEVER flit through my brain, anymore. As someone who used to have them easily weekly, sometimes daily, that is a trait that I’m thrilled is currently mostly deactivated.

However, the feelings of abandonment are more difficult to quiet. They can remain dormant for a time, but something as simple as a loved one rejecting one of my suggestions or not responding quickly to a text which made me feel vulnerable can IMMEDIATELY trigger the activation of intense and powerful emotions. Sometimes I’m able to recognize that feeling (the floor dropping out from under me) and pull my reaction back and sometimes I freaking jump on that train and ride it all the way down the line. That usually comes in the form of insane text messaging. It’s not pretty, and I’m inevitably embarrassed and ashamed at the end. Sometimes, feelings lie. Sometimes, it’s important for me to evaluate the evidence before me before responding to my activated trait. Sometimes, I can do that. Sometimes I don’t.

I went for a walk this morning with G. Remember him? Yeah. He did some really awful things. He’s also in therapy and dealing with an actual diagnosis of Narcissistic Personality Disorder. And I think about that. I think about how easily people can (and some most definitely did) dismiss and judge me when I was in the throes of some very activated borderline personality disorder traits. It’s exactly why I’ve never really talked about those things. I don’t want the judgments that I KNOW are associated with that slapped onto me. I have, in fact, very purposefully NOT told people that I have these traits for fear of the repercussions. I’m rather ashamed of that cowardice.

In a private FB group, today my very wise & beautiful friend said, “”Is it really being disrespectful if you’re being honest? I hold back SO much because I don’t want to upset others, who have no problem telling me when they’re upset with me, or disagree with me, or get offended when I am doing something not meant to offend, it’s just being me. The thing is, I know if I’m even more authentically me, the [certain people] will throw fits. And so I censor myself. But why? If it’s honest and true, then is it being disrespectful or rude? No one’s getting any younger here, and I’m beginning to feel the effects of holding everything back.”

It was exactly what I needed to hear. I started this blog as a journey to authenticity. That means that sometimes people aren’t going to like who I am or what I say …. But if I let that censor what I’m willing to write about, then I’m doing a disservice to myself and the whole motivation for writing this blog in the first place.

The point is that it’s easy to slap labels on people. Write them off. Come up with many reasons why you shouldn’t make the effort to build a relationship. And I know that some people ARE toxic. Some people don’t try to become better. Some people refuse to acknowledge their faults. But if you happen to meet people who ARE trying, that’s really something. It’s often easier to stay stuck, to ignore faults, to deny failings. If you know people who are genuinely trying to improve themselves, that is a beautiful thing. And it can be amazing to watch their journey unfold and to be a part of it.

I have no idea what the future hold with G. He doesn’t, either. We go for walks; we talk about the past; we talk about the future. We talk about our therapy sessions; we talk about the struggles with trying to change old patterns. We talk about how our relationship began; we talk about where our relationship might be. We talk about having no real clear idea of what the future holds at all, but we both know we’re hoping to be healthier people in the future, whether that means we stay in communication or we don’t. It’s slow. It’s trepidatious. It’s tenuous. It’s scary. But it’s real. It’s authentic. It’s two people who, underneath layers of wounds/bad decisions, have a genuine affection for one another.

I know I’ll get flack for admitting this. I know I’ll get judgement. Maybe some condemnation. But bring it. Because this is who I am. I’m a wounded person who is doing her best to be motivated by love. Always the love. My journey isn’t your journey. You might make different decisions. But as a girl who easily could’ve been written off as a “Borderline”, it’s important to me to allow people room to grow. I don’t expect everyone will offer the same room for me. That’s okay. This is authentic Jenny, mistakes, wounds, warts, and all. I’m okay with her.