Shame….


February 25, 2010

Shame…

As someone with  borderline personality disorder, I have a great deal of SHAME.  It eats at me daily.  I was a straight A student in elementary school, a way of getting VALIDATION from my father.  In High School I tasted a bit of freedom and became the opposite of who I had always been.  Girls told me I was funny, so I became funnier and funnier, doing ridiculous things in order to keep the definition they had placed on me.  NEEDING OTHERS TO DEFINE ME However, each laugh was filled with tears, each time I cut a class or acted like a fool , I was screaming inside.  Two years into high school, I changed and became a RECLUSE, changed friends, changed my personality.  Now I was known as a hermit.  The friends who knew me as funny and a free spirit would be confused if they ever talked to my new friends, “Who, Maria is quiet?”  “She has a big mouth, she’s not afraid of anything.”  When I look in my yearbook at what people have written me it is like the yearbook of two different people.  I had no idea who I was and looked for people to define me.  This is a common borderline characteristic. No we are not Multiple Personality, we are completely IN TOUCH with reality.  Why did my personality change so much? I had no sense of SELF, therefore needed people to tell me who Maria was, it was their job to find me, I had never been given the chance to find myself, since as a child, as an adolescent, as a young adult, every decision down to the clothes I was wearing would be someone elses, my judgment was not trusted.  If I can’t pick out the “right” outfit, how can I pick out the “right” self?  Also, depending on the people I was around I took on their characteristcs, CHAMELEON to be accepted and not abandoned.  If I was different they would leave me, and that is the CORE FEAR of any borderline, being alone…

So, the first two years I did poorly, just to make people think I was “funny.”  The second two years I was straight A’s, even through all the fog, college again a recluse, constantly changing according to what people wanted from me.  I had always loved to read, so friends told me I should be an English major. Poof! I became an English major.  Too bad noone ever told me I should get into Politics, I may have been President today.  College was difficult.  My symptoms began to get worse and worse.  I LOATHED myself.  I was told I was ugly from a young age, I can remember looking in the mirror and crying screaming to God why he had created something so ugly. I’d bang my head with my hands, pull my own hair, even throw myself on the bathroom floor in hysterics at how ugly I was and how everyone hated me.  Noone hated me.  I hated me.  When I look at pictures now, I see an extraordinarily beautiful girl, but at the time in my mind, in my eyes, in my very core I was a monster, UNDESERVING of any friends let alone boyfriends.  Sure, I had my crushes, but when a guy talked to me, I can remember being so NERVOUS and wanting to run and hide, today many tell me how they were afraid of how intimidating I was, they thought I was cocky, in reality I was a wounded deer bleeding on the side of the road…  I threw myself into schoolwork determined to make my father proud, yet I was completly lost in what to do, who to be, what to study…yet through it all I graduated top of my class, Daddy had to accept me.  The better I did the more people told me how smart I was, the more pressure I put on myself to do well.  So, today the SHAME is still here.  Having survived through college and graduate school with all the anguish insdie of me, I feel lke a match that hasn’t been lit yet.  I have yet to use the potential inside.  I remember clearly a teacher in Graduate school.  She was an English professor.  The very last day when we went to pick up our writing portfolio, she looked at me sadly, put her head down  and said, “You have some brilliant things in here, but your future well that’s up to you.”  I felt my face on fire, I was ashamed, she saw the demons inside me through my writing… I pretended to be indifferent about her statement, grabbed my portfolio and ran out of her office, paarked my car and ran 8 miles… At the time I had started running, not to get in shape, not because I enjoyed it, but to get away from me, only I was always there no matter how far and how fast I was, I was always there….  Today, I still run, less but I still run waiting for the day that I can find my SELF somewhere on that road…

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One Response

  1. I’m not sure how I missed reading this post, but I really liked it. It explains a lot and also describes someone I know with BPD. She is also very intelligent but dresses in dark clothing because someone told her she looks “better” that way, when she looked beautiful dressed in lighter-colored clothes to begin with.

    But you did great by finishing college and grad school…congratulations! You accomplished more than my friend ever has…so far.

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