John Nash

bpdwoman — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 03:59:43 +0000

One thing people always say to me is “you have so much potential”. But what does potential matter if you can never seem to use it? There are so many things I want to do and I feel like I will never be able to accomplish them because I am too tired from just surviving. Isnt there supposed to be more to this life than being tired all the time! Sometimes I want to rail at the heavens for cursing me with this sickness.

John Nash was able to accomplish so much while suffering from a much worse illness, so why cant I. Is everyone lying to me. Maybe Im just not as gifted as everyone tells me I am. After all, I canèt even get this stupid function key to turn off!

bpdwoman — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 03:48:49 +0000

For me the diagnosis was simultaneously freeing and saddening. I realised what it meant while I was in treatment for Social Anxiety Disorder. Ihad been diagnosed some time previously, but didn’t know what it was, I thought it meant I was on the border of having a personality disorder, but that I didn’t quite qualify.

At the time of my diagnosis I qualified under all of the diagnostic criteria stated above. When I read the description of the illness I knew instantly that it described my life. These were long-term problems that started when I was very young and culminated in a nervous breakdown at 24 years old.

I had previously known that something was wrong, but when I seeked help I fooled the professionals into believing that I was okay. I am very good at appearing confident, capable and whole, and I wasn’t yet ready to accept the reality of my issues.

Dealing with this diagnosis was difficult, I did come across a lot of the negative talk about people with BPD. It really shed light on some of my more extreme behaviours. I’ve never been an evil person, but when I lose control of my reactions to my emotions I can say things that I regret as they come out of my mouth. I alwys apologize, and there are things I’ve never said that have occurred to me at those times, but still.

My mother found my diagnosis enlightening. She had always blamed herself for my issues, even now she tends to do that. The diagnosis served as a catalyst for the realisation that she is not responsible for my illness.

It is an illness. There is no question of that. It’s something I didn’t ask for, something I suffer from and through, and it sucks.

But that’s life and I’m all about the radical acceptance. Willingness oover willfulness and all that.

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John Nash