My name is Eden and I am 21 years old. I decided to write about being a Borderline because, honestly, Borderline Personality Disorder- or BPD- is more widespread than Bipolar Disorder and Schizophrenia, and yet less is understood about it than either one- which makes it hard to diagnose correctly, and even harder for people with BPD to find support and even other people with BPD to talk to.
I first suspected that I had it when I was about 13 years old. At the time, I was depressed, delusional, self-injuring, suicidal, and occasionally hallucinated. I was alienated, I was all alone despite having a loving family, I never kept friends for long, and my mood swings were so bad that I was convinced I had multiple personalities (such as Rae, who actually does!).
My school counselor received a note from the small, depressed 13-year-old me that I was cutting myself badly. She told my principal- a nun, since it was a Catholic school- who told my parents. They were badly shaken and took me to see a therapist, a wonderful woman named Dr. G. (In an amazing stroke of irony, my current therapist, Dr. W, was hired to replace Dr. G after she left for maternity leave and then for a new job.) I also saw my parents' psychiatrist, Dr. Q.
Oh Dr. Q, the history we have. You are a nice man but I still hate you so very much.
Let's just say that you should never, ever give a 14-year-old Zoloft or really most of the medicine he gave me. I ended up tonguing most of them and hiding them, only to overmedicate every few days. My high school years are a blur...
But I am getting ahead of myself.
After Dr. G left for maternity leave, I was stuck with Dr. Q. I didn't like him and he soon referred me to Dr. K, a therapist and not a psychiatrist- which suited me just fine. I was still on medication, this time Wellbuterin for paranoia and Seroquel to counteract the side effects of Wellbuterin- one such side effect happens to be paranoia. I did not trust that man and he still wonders why.
Dr. K turned out to be a very... passionately negative woman. On the plus side her group therapy led to my first kiss, a pretty girl named Lola. (But that's a bit TMI I'm sure. ^_~ )
She was convinced I had to be committed. She wasn't the first but she was certainly the most vehement. My parents got tired of her always trying to make them believe I was batshit insane and took me out of therapy.
Before I left therapy, however, I ended up overdosing on Wellbuterin and Seroquel over the course of about three days. I truly intended and hoped to die, but my dad found out (well, I confessed; I was 15 and scared.) and he and my sister shoved water down my throat.
I ended up just fine, thankfully.
That was 5 and a half years before I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. And that's the basics. (You want to read something more specific, go read Rae's blog.)
Eden.
I first suspected that I had it when I was about 13 years old. At the time, I was depressed, delusional, self-injuring, suicidal, and occasionally hallucinated. I was alienated, I was all alone despite having a loving family, I never kept friends for long, and my mood swings were so bad that I was convinced I had multiple personalities (such as Rae, who actually does!).
My school counselor received a note from the small, depressed 13-year-old me that I was cutting myself badly. She told my principal- a nun, since it was a Catholic school- who told my parents. They were badly shaken and took me to see a therapist, a wonderful woman named Dr. G. (In an amazing stroke of irony, my current therapist, Dr. W, was hired to replace Dr. G after she left for maternity leave and then for a new job.) I also saw my parents' psychiatrist, Dr. Q.
Oh Dr. Q, the history we have. You are a nice man but I still hate you so very much.
Let's just say that you should never, ever give a 14-year-old Zoloft or really most of the medicine he gave me. I ended up tonguing most of them and hiding them, only to overmedicate every few days. My high school years are a blur...
But I am getting ahead of myself.
After Dr. G left for maternity leave, I was stuck with Dr. Q. I didn't like him and he soon referred me to Dr. K, a therapist and not a psychiatrist- which suited me just fine. I was still on medication, this time Wellbuterin for paranoia and Seroquel to counteract the side effects of Wellbuterin- one such side effect happens to be paranoia. I did not trust that man and he still wonders why.
Dr. K turned out to be a very... passionately negative woman. On the plus side her group therapy led to my first kiss, a pretty girl named Lola. (But that's a bit TMI I'm sure. ^_~ )
She was convinced I had to be committed. She wasn't the first but she was certainly the most vehement. My parents got tired of her always trying to make them believe I was batshit insane and took me out of therapy.
Before I left therapy, however, I ended up overdosing on Wellbuterin and Seroquel over the course of about three days. I truly intended and hoped to die, but my dad found out (well, I confessed; I was 15 and scared.) and he and my sister shoved water down my throat.
I ended up just fine, thankfully.
That was 5 and a half years before I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. And that's the basics. (You want to read something more specific, go read Rae's blog.)
Eden.
February 26, 2010 at 11:10 PM
I have to ask...what's "something more specific"?