Archive for the ‘Bipolar’ Category

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Why Borderline and Bipolar extremes are different.

November 2, 2011

I have only experienced Bipolar from my dad so please excuse me if I get this all completely wrong but I wanted to try and explain why borderlines are not diagnosed as Bipolar.

Emotions in both illnesses are of the extreme kind but they are different in the ways that:

Bipolar extreme emotions are generally up and down, with no inbetween (when uncontrolled).

With Borderline Personality Disorder, you may not know which emotion you’re feeling because you can experience many things at once. The change can be very quick from one to another. There isn’t really any kind of mania in BPD.

Bipolar moods are often due to chemical imbalances (with occasional triggers). This is why Bipolar is easier to treat with medication than BPD.

Borderline moods are (often) learned through upbringing and experience. A lack of a controlled home environment or unstable parents can often lead to an inability to understand an appropriate reaction to a situation. Dissapointment is a big factor in the big Borderline mood swings.

Bipolar lows come from the imbalances and are triggered by traumatic events which cause severe depression. They can’t always be explained.

Borderline lows sometimes have no cause, there is a general feeling of emptiness at all times.

Bipolar highs are often followed by delusional thinking such as feelings of grandeur and even beliefs of super human abilities which can lead to harmful things like over spending or promiscuity.

Borderline highs don’t often occur but when they do the feeling is very limited and doesn’t last. This is why people with BPD are known for addictions and potentially harmful activities such as spending a lot of money or promiscuity¬† due to wanting that high again and again. It doesn’t have lasting effects.

Although both Bipolar and Borderline are often associated with the same potentially harmful activities, the reasoning is generally different. People with Bipolar do the harmful things because they feel high, like they can do anything. Whereas Borderlines are trying to create that high.

People with Bipolar are generally hospitalised due to harmful manic behaviour or depression.

People with Borderline personality disorder and generally hospitalised due to severe self harm or suicide attempts.

They can be very similar and can be diagnosed together but there are major differences between the two. I generally see Borderline as more of a natural reaction to traumatic events whereas Bipolar is more an inherited chemical illness that is often combined with trauma. Some people with Bipolar have the illness despite a “good” early life whereas people with Borderline have generally have some kind of trauma or abuse during childhood.

I know so many people who feel they would rather have anything but Borderline Personality Disorder due to the stigma surrounding it but seeing Bipolar in my father makes me most afraid of that illness. When I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality disorder my first thought was “I don’t have Bipolar, thank goodness” because to me anything other than Bipolar was better because of what I had already suffered with it. Please don’t feel offended, I know a lot of you who read this blog may have Bipolar but you will know more than anyone how hard it is. All mental illnesses are awful but when you’ve grown up with one that has taken someone special from you, you will always have that little spot in you that say, this one needs to be destroyed first.

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Self pity.

August 28, 2011

I’m not usually this bad. I simply have to turn the TV on now and I started crying. I watched the simpsons and Homer told Lisa he loved her and I started crying so I turned over to supernanny and the mother was playing happily with her children and I started crying so I turned over to X factor (as a last resort) and the singer was getting praise from the judges and his family and himself were so happy with his achievement so I just turned the bloody thing off. Everything was reducing me to tears. Everything is such a mess. Yes I may be getting away from it all but I’m leaving behind a hospitalised father and a mother who I suspect has autism. She doesn’t recognise that I have ever done anything to make her life any better, although I have been dad’s carer all my life and slept in the same bed with her for 5 years of my late childhood because she said if I didn’t dad would rape her. I’m leaving and all she can do is tell me how useless I am. I’m trying to think of moving forward and starting the new but seeing what a mess my parents are in tears me apart. I don’t feel guilt, I just feel shame and pity. Most teens moving out of home have parental support, while I’m still crying over the fact that my dad can’t even see me off into a new life because he’s in the psych ward. What a way to leave. I’ve always hated the expression “why me?” because the people who use it are often getting upset over a tiny matter in their otherwise okay life but I’m going to say it…Why me? I’m a good person. I don’t know what I did to make all of this happen.

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Updates

August 17, 2011

I haven’t written in over a month. Sometimes I think that when I don’t write here it’s a good thing because it means I don’t have anything awful going on but that’s not the truth. I write less because I’m finding it hard to do anything anymore. It’s effort to admit how I feel. It’s difficult. I wish I was writing as much as I used to. I don’t really even have many people reading anymore, It feels like it’s dying out here.

Well my updates. Dad is in hospital, it’s been over a month. He lashed out at my husband and was very clearly manic weeks before but my words were nothing due to him behaving when around drs, crisis team etc. Me and my husband had to leave because I was too frightened to be there, the police escorted us out because I refused to go near him without police there. Even if he wasn’t a threat, my childhood trauma wouldn’t let me go near him. This is the worst he has been since I was 6, when it all began. All these years this has been my nightmare. Yes, he has been unwell since then but not manic. Not manic. Mania is the single most frightening thing I have experienced from my dad, it always ends involves psychosis and delusions.

We came home after we were told he was in hospital and an hour later we had a phonecall from the police saying he had dissapeared. Absolutely petrified I locked myself in the room and of course he came home. The police came to the house and refused to take him, I screamed at them that I couldn’t have him at home and he was supposed to be admitted and I was frightened for my wellbeing and they could do bugger all. I made them call the hospital and get the information they needed to take him and as usual the hospital were useless.

The police finally managed to ask him nicely if they could take him to the hospital, he agreed but we had to go too so he wouldn’t dissapear again. We got to the hospital and were told we had to wait for him to have an assesment. All the doors in psych wards are locked so we were literally locked in a reception room with my psychotic father. 2 hours passed and he wasn’t having any if it. He started smashing things up, screaming and urinating on the floor. I banged on the doors for help. No one came. Some doctors even just walked straight through and ignored us. Some said they would get someone and never came back.

We were at the hospital for 5 hours for an assessment to say he needed to be sectioned. In that time we could have been seriously hurt. Including my dad who was trying to smash the windows so he could “cut his wrists and bleed to death”.

Even the most stupid person could see that he was unwell. He believed he has shut down the news of the world single handedly and he claimed he had loads of corporations that could kill us all at the push of a button. He said he was a millionaire and had loads of women falling at his feet and would do anything for his money.

And then there’s my ignorant mother. Ignorant is a nice word to use. She knew/knows he is ill yet she believes every word he says. She doesn’t understand why he would lie. And to be fair he isn’t lying in his world but in the real world none of what he says is true. So everyday my mum comes into my room and says he’s coming home, setting panic in my heart for me to realise it’s him that says he’s coming home. So it’s not true. But in she comes everyday, “your dad says he’s paying off my debt with his money” “he’s coming home tonight” “he says I need to go and see him and bring him home”. And then there’s his demands. Before he went into hospital he bought every paper he could find because he thought they were worth millions. He gave me and my aunt a stack of papers and said to take them home because he needed to keep them all, we just binned them on the way home. It sounds nasty, I know but at the time he didn’t remember one minute to another so he wouldn’t even know he gave them to us. So he calls mum up. “Your dad said he needs some newspapers and that I need to go and see him this evening”.

1. She doesn’t like him. She doesn’t give a damn about him.
2. She is too stupid to realise that he doesn’t need those things because he is fed at the hospital and the more she goes the more he thinks that she wants him again.
3. She said she is only doing all this because if she doesn’t he will go even more crazy.

So basically I have to deal with dad being in hospital, being frightened of him AND to top it off having a (excuse me) fuckwit mother.

I’ve visited him about 4 or 5 times in the past month even though the bloody hospital is 2 hours away (I don’t drive) and he’s started calling everyday crying and saying I have to visit him every night and if I refuse he gets nasty. I asked them to stop him calling me so he found a mobile phone and called the house saying I can get out of his life and get out of the house if I won’t be at his constant beck and call.

Yes it’s nasty him being in hospital but it’s the first break I’ve had from being emotional stressed out from him and being made to do EVERYTHING for him in I don’t know how many years. It’s nice him being away. And plenty of other people visit. I need a break and I get abuse for it.

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Conversations with daddy.

June 21, 2011

Very rare and mostly about football. But this time he came knocking on my door, he said he’d been on the Mind website and found a page that described Bipolar really well and he wondered if I had read it. He isn’t very good at computers so he doesn’t realise that you can find millions of pages of information about Bipolar but he wanted to talk to me about it and I am always willing to talk about my issues and his. I said that I have indeed read it and that he should look up Borderline Personality Disorder so maybe he could understand my illness and he was more than happy to learn. We don’t talk about emotions and feelings, he’s a manly man, he doesn’t do crying and showing how he really feels (unless of course he can’t help it due to illness). I always try and get the most I can out of these rare encounters that he wants to know more about what makes me tick and wants to share with me his feelings. He read through the page and didn’t say much. It didn’t matter that he didn’t respond much, I was happy though that he didn’t looked shocked, he read it, took it in and accepted it. He especially concentrated hard on the part that said “how to help someone with BPD”, he read it all out loud. These small things, mean everything. I spoke about mum and how I believe she caused a lot of my problem and I said how I believe she loves her celebrity obsession more than me, to which he responded, “she probably does.” That cut me deep but he knows how that feels, she always loved her obsession more than him too.

We spoke some more and he told me about his breakdowns as if I wasn’t there, maybe blocking out the idea that I had to see this happen. He explained that his first psychotic episode was because he thought my mum was trying to take me away from him (she had threatened this before) but he became irrational and tried to hurt her. All these years I had thought he was trying to kill her because he was “mad” and didn’t know what was happening. When he was actually trying to save me from being taken away. It changes my whole perspective, of course it doesn’t make it better that he tried to hurt her but a parent who loves their child will fight to save them from harm and will never let them be taken away without a battle. My dad was willing to hurt, even kill someone he loved to prevent losing me.

This knowledge is so precious, especially to someone who frequently believes they are unlovable. It’s frightening, of course. But to actually know that someone would go to the ends of the earth for you is in itself, well, madness.

I love you, dad.

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Parents, growing up and suicide.

May 2, 2011

Well, wouldn’t you expect a happy blogger after getting hitched? Tis not so. Everything has gone excessively worse in my life since. Not my fault of my marriage but everything else (Okay I admit being married is called borderline anxiety problems but leave this for now). While my anxiety has increased massively since getting married and being diagnosed OCD, I knew something else had to go crazy in my life because my life can’t just have one huge problem at a time. Since I’ve gotten married my dad has finally said that he wants to divorce mum, this is a God send because their marriage is part of the reason that I am, well, writing this now. It just seems so many years too late for it to actually benefit me but at least for it to happen now means that my dad may be able to benefit, as for my mum she is socially inept, can’t make friends, is easily bullied, has a low paying job and has narcissistic tendencies and I believe BPD. I can’t imagine her ever being happy with any situation. Even though I am trying to fuel this divorce, along with my dad’s sister, every now and then I break down and cry. I know I’ve never really had a family as such but the fact that they were physically in the same home meant I could pretend.

I went to the in laws yesterday and it was my father in laws birthday, the family gathered round the table and a cake was brought out as the family sang and my heart broke into a million pieces. Even though my husband’s family are also quite dysfunctional, they love each other and do nice things for each other. I’ve never EVER witnessed either of my parents do something nice for the other and it hurt so much to see that even the most dysfunctional family can still be a family. It hurt that I don’t have a family. I have a mother and I have a father but no family. And now I’m married, I have even less of a family because the part of my parents that made me feel like I had parents was the occasional care of which now they feel they don’t need to give because I’m my husband’s responsibility now. I had this particular conversation with my mother yesterday.

I came home from the in laws for my mother to casually say “your dad went to hospital”, I questioned why she didn’t call to tell me of which she just shrugged her shoulders (her usual response to anything to do with dad) , this then brought up a conversation about how I’ve always loved dad more and how she needs to see the one she loves again (her celebrity obsession who has stepped over the boundaries by being her “friend”). She said she didn’t want to tell me that she was going away because I would “go off on one” I didn’t I said to her, “He (the obsession) cannot solve your problems.” To which she cried to my husband “see I told you, there she goes”. I tried my up most not to judge her and to just tell her that this celebrity can’t make her huge life problems better. She sees me as attacking her no matter what I say, I told her that she needs to sort out this home situation too and that she should of left years ago. She, of course, attacked me again, “you said you wanted to live with dad and he would’ve of raped you!”, she’s playing the hero, living with him to protect me. My dad has never touched me in any way that has ever been inappropriate. If anything she’s been the one who’s been over sexual with me throughout my childhood. She starts to tell me that she is trying to sort out the situation at home, so I asked her what she’s trying to sort out. She wouldn’t tell me, she said now I’m married and moving why do I need to know what’s going on with my my home because I’ll be gone. I told her that just because I’m leaving doesn’t mean I’m just forgotten about but she was set in her view that if I’m gone then I no longer exist in her life and it’s not important what goes on in my family because she doesn’t seem to understand that anything would emotionally effect me. She has a very one person view, she can only understand the way that things affect her. I thought maybe she was going to try and sort out a divorce as well so I tried to get her to tell me what was going on because how ridiculous would it be for both parties to be filing for divorce and the other not knowing. You can see how much communication there really is. She ended up saying how she doesn’t want to say anything because it’ll cause problems, J kept telling her she had to tell us. So she starts crying and says she’s talking to someone at the crisis team. After all she’s put me through I can be horribly unsympathetic to her so I stopped myself blurting out, “IS THAT IT?” To me calling the crisis team is not a big thing at all, I just know that they’re shit. So, she’s trying to get herself emotional support…but I still don’t see how that solves the home problem. She wants to continue living at home but have emotional support? She spent ages saying how nobody ever helped her when dad was first ill but every time we asked if she asked for help she said no but she expected it to just happen. So she feels let down by mental health services and she’s angry at them yet how do you receive if you don’t ask? She complains that dad got help and I got help but she didn’t. One, dad had a psychotic episode, of course someone is going to look after him in hospital. Two, I was a child, when you’re a child, you aren’t expected to ask for help when you go through a traumatic experience. I feel like she blames me but I did all I could throughout my life to help her and yes I did give up because of her constant “nobody cares about me, what about me, nobody ever looks after me”. J kept being sympathetic to her and I couldn’t stand it, she would cry and he hugged her and I just got so mad. If he hugs her and comforts her, she will attach to him and because I refused to hug her, she will have more reason to attack me. There were times that I cried and cried and she shrugged her shoulders at my feelings and said “what about me” and I can no longer let her in emotionally because I only get hurt. I only get left behind. So J’s compassion will be her reasoning for me not caring. He also kept telling her I do care and I do want to listen and I do want to help. I don’t. She is a grown woman, I want her to grow the hell up and start taking responsibility for her actions. She has created this life and she takes no responsibility at all for any of the wrong that happened, It’s all everyone else fault. She only thinks I’m ill because of “your crazy dad”, she doesn’t understand situational depression or that anything she has ever done being a cause for my trauma and pain. And until she accepts responsibility for her own actions I can’t help her. She says she wants to die, yeah well you know what, join the queue.

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Doomed before the beginning.

February 5, 2011

Do you ever feel like your background dooms you to a life of misery and failure?

In my family only one person (not including me) is in a happy relationship, however this is her second marriage. Not one person is my family has gotten it right first time and except this one person the rest are single and my parents are unhappily married. I feel like my relationship is doomed before we’re even married. With such an unhappy family and with the issues running throughout, I feel like my happiness is only an illusion to keep me going and that something has got to kill us before we get too happy. The fact that the majority of my family are over 50 and single and never had any parteners in the last 18 years makes me wonder what the future holds for me. I often wonder if I mistake my severe neediness for love which results in panic attacks due to the thought of not actually being able to love how normal people do. I then feel severe guilt for stringing J along because I don’t really know how to love. These awful thoughts and panic attacks really mess with our relationship and with my head. I love J. But my head doesn’t want me to, my head wants me to be alone so I don’t have to ever have conflict or become an independent adult in the outside world. My head wants me to hide away and be alone. My heart wants to marry J and start a new life and leave the past behind.

The problem is following my heart over my head. Because every now and then my head wants me dead.

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One little word. -ABUSE TRIGGER-

January 31, 2011

“Abuse.”

As I looked at the paper I started to cry.

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I had been looking for my birth certificate when I found a black folder, it wasn’t marked and has a mr men sticker on the front so I thought “maybe this is mine.” I opened it to find quite a lot of documents, I didn’t understand what they were so I skimmed through, I found a piece of paper with my dad’s writing scribbled in capitals across it, the words said “ADOPTED SON”, “BANANAMAN”, “THE TRUTH WILL OUT”, “PISS IN PAPE”, “I’M A JUNKIE I MUST GET OUT, THIS PLACE IS DANGEROUS.” then I realied, these were his psychiatric admission documents and he had scribbled all over them during a psychotic, possible manic episode. I was horrified that my mother had even kept them let alone put them at the top of a draw that also had my medical documents from my birth. The writing didn’t come to a shock so much because it was something I had seen as a child but two things triggered me. An envelope with my writing on that said “SAY SORRY” my dad had crossed out “SAY” and written “I’M” in it’s place. I remember telling him to apologise for screaming at me one day and then within a millisecond having no recollection of ever doing so.

The second was 1 word that caught my eye as a flick through to figure out what they were. “Abused”, I stopped in horror then out of horrid curiousity read something that cut right through me. I cannot for his sake say what it said but it was something that made me very fearful, I needed to call up his sister and find out the truth. Crying I called her and told her what I had read and she reassured me that many awful things had happened, that it was true but it had been blown out of proportion by the health services. She knew because she was there and I needed her to tell me herself. I want to unread the words that I have read so I can feel normal again, not confused and hurt. I feel more comfort knowing that my aunt has reassured me of the events being of lesser pain than they made out but it’s something that I know will niggle at my mind until I can forget.

My family have suffered so many horrible horrible things, what did we ever do to deserve this?