Episode

Yesterday, I had an episode. That’s what I call them, but I guess it doesn’t give you very much information on what I’m actually referring to. As most, if not all of you know, I have Borderline Personality Disorder. After participation in an outpatient treatment program a couple years ago, I am managing my illness much better and the good days certainly outnumber the bad, but every once in a while, one of those days pops up that just seems determined to break you. On those days, I’m not proud to say that I still don’t cope well. Those are the days I have ‘episodes’.

An episode means suicidal. It means I’ve lost control of myself, my environment and whatever situation I’m in has gotten past all my defenses and taken over control of my body, my mind, everything. In a way, I cease to be ‘me’. Friends and family have told me they don’t recognize the person they see during one of my episodes. I want to try to explain why. I’m going to use an incident that happened yesterday to illustrate, by making this post my open letter of apology to everyone my behavior affected.

To whom it may concern:

Before anything else I would like to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I would like to explain to you exactly what I personally perceived which generated such an extreme response, but in no way do I intend these explanations to serve as excuses for the way I acted. I understand that each person’s actions are their own to claim, regardless of state of mind.

Something most of you probably know is that I suffer from Borderline Personality Disorder. A big part of this disorder for me is that I am very sensitive to social interactions. I often perceive people as being hostile toward me when they are not, or suspect people are lying to me when no one else seems to think so. Those are just a couple of examples. Often,  a family member or trusted friend helps me interpret the world around me so that these misperceptions do not interfere with my ability to function to too great a degree. Other times, however, when no one is there who knows and understands how the disorder manifests in me particularly, I tend to base irrational actions on those flawed thoughts.

This is essentially what happened yesterday. Yes, the initial reason I was upset was because I couldn’t understand why small changes to my care couldn’t be made. I should have been able to realize that (a) I didn’t get to make the rules and (b) the rules weren’t intended to do ill toward me, but because I do not perceive things normally, I couldn’t see those things – all I saw was judgment. I felt that by refusing to consider those changes to my care, the staff was judging me, labeling me in some way and, as I’m very sensitive to judgment, I did what of course is the hallmark of BPD – I *way* overreacted.

Today, with some perspective, I can see that it’s unlikely that the staff was actually thinking that way when I suspected it, but that my own actions lent credence to the theory I so strenuously objected to. It was that sense of being judged or not listened to, rather than the actual approval or denial of my request, that caused me to lose control and act out the way I did. Sometimes this is hard for me to explain to people who don’t have the disorder because from the outside it looks so much like it’s just a temper tantrum because I didn’t get what I wanted, but there is much more going on underneath. The situation escalated as I felt like more and more people were judging me, dismissing me, not understanding me, etc. Eventually I get to a point where this is so dominant in my mind that I start thinking my whole life will be full of judgment and that’s not a life worth living – thus the suicidal ideation and sometimes action. 

From the outside I can see how it looks like, when, after not getting what I want, I simply throw a tantrum over it, but on the inside, it’s no longer about whatever the original argument was anymore (which is why the original argument is often so trivial and people wonder why I react so strongly). What is happening is that I am losing control of whatever little part of me is restraining the other, bigger part shouting at me that people are judging me and that my life will always be that way and therefore I should just kill myself.

When I calm down, usually after some sort of pharmaceutical intervention as that’s all we’ve found to work thus far, that lying part of my brain recedes and I’m left wondering who that person was that acted so out of control, so irrationally. So not like me. At that point I recognize that my actions were destructive, that my perception was seriously mistaken at the time, and that I am ashamed of the way I acted. I usually see the other side of the initial ‘argument’ as well – and wonder why I couldn’t have just accepted it instead of freaking out. But then I guess that’s the disease. Later I’m sorry. Like today, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the way I acted, I’m sorry for anyone I hurt either physically or emotionally, I’m sorry for the resources I forced others to expend trying to keep me safe from myself. If I had it to go back and do again, there’s no doubt in my mind that things would have played out much differently.

In any case, this is a somewhat simple explanation of one of the aspects of my disorder, but the one that is most relevant at the moment. I hope that in reading this and seeing my apology you can forgive me – and whatever loony-tunes bug got into my head – for the way I acted. I really am trying every day – and will continue to try – to moderate the symptoms of this disorder to allow me to live a more normal and hopefully much less dramatic life.

Thank you for your time in reading this. I know it is not an excuse, and I don’t intend it as one – I need to learn how to interpret the world around me accurately on my own, and that is something I will work on. My hope is that explaining my behavior from my perspective will help us all understand each other a little better. I know we can make strides in this area!

Regards,

Kate