An open letter to my therapist

A very honest letter to a therapist pleading for real feedback from a real and caring person

Life in a Bind - BPD and me

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt so much like the enemy. Since I’ve wanted to keep you at arms’ length and push you away. When I asked you a question at the start of our last session and felt brushed off by your reply, I was surprised at how much it hurt. Surprised because I’d been feeling so cut-off I wasn’t sure if you still had the power to wound me like that.  Before the Christmas break I would have just let go and cried, but instead I tried to contain it and keep it inside. I was guarded and I was holding back.

I’ve been turning away from you in session, I know I have, but I don’t know if you’ve noticed. It’s very subtle – just shifting in my chair so that I can turn a little to the side. It’s not deliberate, but I’m aware…

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Welcome to Frustration Island

I feel detached.

There’s no place or person I feel truly at home with – not even myself.  Is this due to nature or nurture (or lack thereof)?

I’ve spent most of my life on the move. It started in childhood. My younger brother and I moving from place to place with our mother, enrolling in one new school after another.

We developed wicked senses of humor which helped us appear to “fit in” later in life.

I always make friends on the surface – but never fully open up. I learned by being molested physically and mentally as a child that nobody I encountered could be trusted. Ever.

That part of me is broken. I do not know if it can be fixed.

It doesn’t mean I don’t have people who say they love me. I am grateful to them and I love them from a safe distance. My love for my children comes easy to me.

I have people I call family who have proven over time they aren’t out to hurt me. They always have my back.

My romantic life is a mess.  Enough said.

“Happiness comes from within,” I’ve heard people say. How deep do I have to look?

I’m see my therapist/psychologist and psychiatrist regularly and I’m taking medication.There’s not enough time in a talk session to vent it all out.

My barriers keep me from truly feeling involved — It takes away my joy.

I will keep blogging. Tell me if any of you feel this way. Maybe it will help me or somebody else.


Understanding a loved one with BPD – reblog-ish

Information about Borderline Personality Disorder. I hope this is helpful!

Life in a Bind - BPD and me

A friend with BPD pointed me to this excellent article called ‘I can’t get it right’ – Understanding a loved one with Borderline Personality Disorder. She said that it painted a very accurate picture of how she felt much of the time, and the same is certainly true for me.

What I like about this article is that rather than focusing specifically on the DSM IV criteria as an aid to describing BPD symptoms, it highlights three key aspects of how many individuals with BPD experience the world. These aspects are: feelings are ‘too real’; out of sight is out of mind; and extreme sensitivity and rage. These three aspects describe how many individuals with BPD experience their thoughts and feelings as being ‘as real as reality’; that they may find it difficult to maintain object constancy and retain a sense of consistency about the people in their lives…

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Can ‘Mad Maps’ Offer Patients a Way to Take Charge of Their Psychiatric Care?

I wish the medical community in my area would get onboard with this theory. Prevention costs so much less than an emergency. Thank you Longreads


Like advanced directives for the dying, DuBrul explained, mad maps allow psychiatric patients to outline what they’d like their care to look like in future mental health crises. The logic is: If a person can define health, while healthy, and differentiate health from crisis, that person can shape his or her own care. The maps are not intended to be rejections of psychiatry, though they could be that. The maps are designed to force patients and family members to plan ahead—to treat a relapse as possible or even likely—in order to avoid, or at least minimize, future mistakes.

When Jonas was 16 months old, Giulia and I put a bottle of anti-psychotics in our medicine cabinet, just in case. This might seem reasonable, but it was silly. We hadn’t yet heard of mad maps, so we’d never discussed what a situation would have to look like for Giulia to take…

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