Do I smell bad?

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
(Don McLean – “Vincent”)

This is my attempt at understanding myself and deal with BPD – Borderline Personality Disorder. I won’ explain what that is, just consut Wikipedia. Why am I writing this and publishing it as well ? Well, it helps. It helps me think twice before speaking and it may help others understand BPD before judging people who suffer from it. Because we do suffer immensely. It’s said that one out of 10 borderliners commit suicide.
I’ll slightly change names to protect some close people’s privacy. I’ve changed them in a way that they themselves and those who know them personally, will still know who’s meant.

January 27th 2009, 6.15PM
I've now known that I'm borderline for about a month or two. Before, I thought I was simply born to loose, born to fail and to suck and that the only solution was suicide. Now I know there's hope in the form of therapy although it took a serious suicide “announcement” in the form of an internet search for barbiturates to make me look for help. Police came, Interpol had alarmed them of that user who was looking for drugs for suicidal intentions. Afraid of being locked up in a loony bin I promised them to get help of my own free will in order to make them leave. Now I’m seriously looking for help. I’m still considering death and I have the pills well-hidden. I’ve gotten used to and calmed by the fact that I have a way out that I can use any time. My last will is written. The day a person of trust finds it in their post box, it’ll be too late. However I can no longer say that by Febrary this year I’ll be dead and that was originally the plan when I started writing my testament at new year’s night. I was determined and during that period (November-December-January), I lost interest in a lot of things that kept me afloat. Now it’s “do or die”.

So today I met 3 of my 4 closest friends at the same time which is rare because they’re from 2 different environments and although I still don’ feel like I can « let it all out » I think I can trust them, especially Jon. Eversince he made me spill the beans abot the barbiturates, he seems to realize that sometimes, I need my friends’ affection displayed more openly than normal people do. And eventhough I no longer have the hots for him (he ain’t even my type, was it really romantic love or just bigass affection?) I still love him as the best friend I’ve ever had. He doesn’ judge but he does criticize, he never loses his cool. It calms me to be around him, all my troubles seem to disappear. I don’t want him to feel responsible for my wellbeing, but it’s a fact that I’m at my best around him. And the moment he leaves, the blue sky turns grey, that’s my perception everytime a “happy-pill” is flushed out of my system. He motivates me but he also slows me down when needed.

Now I know what to blame my horrible fits on. I’ve always had a bad temper and when I exploded, I did my very best to emotionally hurt the other person and hurt myself by doing so. This was usually my mother : the closer and the dearer a person is to me, the worse I will hurt them. Since she moved far away I’ve calmed down but I’m still so very sorry for all the pain I’ve put her through. And even now I cannot promise her that her dearest and only daughter will live and be happy. But now that I know that I’m not a bad person but « just » sick, I feel like I can control myself so I won’t hurt those closest to me again. Or at least, I’ll try. Jon would be the likeliest victim just because he means so much to me and the last thing I want is to hurt him. Not only for the simple selfish reason that I don’t want to lose him but also because he’s a wonderful person and I don’t intend to be the first to change that. Borderline constantly has you provoke and test relationships. I’m trying to keep myself in check with Jon. Luckily, we’re just good friends, not as close as I am to my mum, so I’m very unlikely to ever get him to cry, break down and crumble as I often did to my mum. I’d have to explode for that and I rarely, or even never, explode with “just friends”.

So anyways, today I went to the cinema with Jon, Stan and Kartrin. « Eleve libre » was a weird movie about a boy discovering his sexuality in a foursome. I didn’t exactly need to see a 40-year-old dude fellate a 17-year-old but I think I’ll live…

So what I was gonna say when I trailed off at the thought of old men being submissive towards little boys, I realized 2 things about my 2 very best friends which I noticed again today. I love being with Cathy but I don’t feel the same intense emotions that I feel towards Jon or Karlo. I’ve known her for 10 years, the boys for not even 2. It’s not Cathy’s fault but I always switch to cool mode when I’m with her while I dare to be emotional and clingy with the guys. Maybe Cathy and I are simply not made for sharing hugs and intense emotions ? We know of each-other’s issues but we never get intense over it. We treat them very matter-of-factly. The other thing is something I noticed about Jon. Everytime we touch inadvertently, he flinches back. Be it shoulders touching at the cinema, legs touching on the crowded bus or feet touching in bed (as in “sleep-over”, not “sleep together”), he seems to be allergic to me on a physical level. I wonder, am I that disgusting ? I shower every damn morning… And I’m not gonna rape him. It’s not that just because I had a crush on him, that I get hot everytime I happen to touch him. Actually, he never turned me on. It’s kind of mean when he acts like I’m a smelly, contagious fungus covered in dog poo. It’s something else when he goes silly-hysterical over hugs, or that’s what I thought until it occurred to me that not all his evasive maneuvers to physical contact with me, are an obvious comical act. It’s more like a horse that flinches when it touches an electric fence. I can’t smell that bad, I mean, I’ve had sex with 118 rather enthousiastic men so far and they never complained and they didn’t touch denim, they sucked my pussy. So what should be expected to smell worse ? A pussy fucked by 17 men in one day, or an arm that has been scrubbed and deo’ed just a few hours ago ? This is the kind of situation that has me mistrust my judgement. Is it the BPS talking, making me feel hated and disgusting, or does he really have a problem with me ? I’m trying to think he doesn’t but the evidence… He’s my best friend, can’t be that bad? Or am I overestimating his friendship? My reasoning tells me we’re good but I don’t avoid physical contact with close friends, he does in my case. So is there a problem or am I being paranoid again?

What I’ve just been typing reminds me of how you can never, at no time, trust your mind to be clear when wou’re a borderliner. I thought I was clear and lucid writing this but in the end, the disease is omnipresent. I do not trust my feelings and the thoughts I’m putting down here. I love my friends, but while the little angel on my left shoulder tells me that they love me back, the little demon on my right shoulder is reminding me of possible problems that might proove the little angel wrong.

Just finished the chocolates a customer had given me. They were great. Getting presents always embarrasses me though, I feel so unworthy and when someone spontaneously gives me a present, I feel guilty and owing. I shouldn’t because that makes me prone to abuse and being taken advantage of, but I can’t reject and refuse every damn nice gesture people make either.