A message I received about my latest post:
“I’d like you to try to read your blog from the perspective of one of the people who’s related to, married to, etc, to someone with BPD. It’s not terribly easy for them either. It doesn’t seem like there’s much room for others to falter and be weak themselves in BPD.” (expressing the observation from my blog that BPD doesn’t allow loved ones to be anything less than perfect)
My response (admitting frustration):
“Umm…that’s the point. There isn’t room in BPD (for other people to be imperfect). That is why it is classified as an illness that needs treatment. Make sense now?”
“Sure, but what the people in your life that fall short and have problems of their own supposed to do?”
“Get help for their issues while I get help for mine.”
I am imperfect even when you set illness aside. Add the MI back into the mix, and its a rough ball game. I expose my illness, flaws, and mistakes to a world of loved ones and strangers. How do my posts not, on some level, acknowledge that my thought process if faulty, and that I not only accept, but seek help?
I am learning to reframe my thinking, with the help of a doctorate level psychologist, to accept that we are all flawed and such flaws are ok. I am learning to tolerate my flaws and other peoples’ flaws because I have no right to be so easily emotionally reactive to what is essentially the human condition.
Please know that while certain people and certain instances in my life helped MI develop in my life, MI’s main cause is the simple act of being born exquisitely sensitive. It’s my responsibility to deal with what nature and nurture gave me. I take responsibility and hope to beat this for me and for my loved ones.
Thank you for your support. I am in great need of it at the moment. Feeling vulnerable.