‘THE BORDERLINE’ AND FACEBOOK

sometimes when i say i'm okay

BPD and Facebook! Not a good combination when I’m feeling vulnerable. I’d posted the above image on a mental health support page and 51 people ‘liked’ it but not one truly got the message – that I really wasn’t ok and was in need of a hug, all be it virtual. One ‘friend’ cut me off altogether. Such is the capricious nature of Facebook. But, when I’m feeling low, the last thing I need is what to me feels like a ‘kick in the teeth’.

BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder); sometimes referred to as EUPD (Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder) is now being referred to by my local mental health team as EID which stands for Emotional Intensity Disorder because people such as myself, feel their emotions far more deeply than the majority of the population. I speak for myself, of course.

The first paragraph, above, is just an example of how easily I get affected and upset. That meaningless, minor event has been enough to send me from feeling happy and content with my world to now, feeling alone, hurt and totally rejected, and although I know I get things ‘all out of proportion’, as some would say, I feel it … I really feel it, and it hurts. It hurts, just like if someone had punched me in the back. Emotional pain is just as great as physical pain. In fact, speaking as someone who has a great deal of both, I would say that emotional pain is harder for me to bear than physical pain.

TWO DAYS LATER – I’ve been watching some YouTube videos on all sorts of topics today including mental health issues. One or two videos were quite helpful. However, I saw one that made me angry. I don’t mean the type of ‘raging anger’ that is meant to be ‘typical’ of all people with BPD but isn’t necessarily so. I mean very justifiable anger, I think … you tell me ….

Why? Because one particular five-minute video continually referred to me and other folk with BPD as ‘The Borderline‘, as if I were an object of curiosity in a museum. If we all took that attitude, then would we call other people with illnesses such as pneumonia or cancer by their diagnosis, i.e. how is ‘The Pneumonia‘ today, or, have you spoken to ‘The Cancer‘ this morning? I think not. Am I being unreasonable in asking to be spoken of respectfully, and not just seen as my diagnosis, but, as a warm, thoughtful and reasonably intelligent human being that I try to be to the best of my ability?

man in box

Image courtesy of ibtimes.com

Well … back to where I started – Facebook (friend or foe?). It has its problems; there’s no doubt about that – it certainly gets a mixed review from me. I have made ‘friends’, but I have also lost a few. I’ve read some good articles and posts, and some dreadful, misinformative posts too. I’ve joined and left a few groups over the time I’ve been with FB (far too long, I’m beginning to think). It can bring people together but it probably also causes more wars between them too. I’ve deleted and deactivated my account more times than I can remember and for various reasons but I’m always sucked back into its vices after a few weeks (fickle by name, fickle by nature). 

Social media, in general, has a hell of a lot to answer for; not just Facebook, but also, Twitter, LinkedIn, Google Plus+, Instagram, YouTube, Tumblr etc (I have to say I’m not with many of them, though). What about WordPress here, and Blogger etc – do you consider them to be social media in some way too? After all, we have followers that stay, followers that go. Some participate – some sit in the back row and watch – however, both are fine with me. I write because I enjoy it – sometimes I make sense; other times, not so. I have made sense in the past, though – I have written two books a good while ago, both more serious poetry (some of which I’ve shared over the years). Finally, I’ve also been known to rant. However, just now, I think I am mortal danger of beginning to ramble so here I will stop and bid you adieu 🙂 

CHITTY CHITTY CHARLIE!

happy woman in wheelchair

My good friend and fellow blogger, Bun, mentioned that I hadn’t been paying much attention to Charlie recently and wondered if he was ok. Charlie, for those of you who have not yet been introduced, is my electric-powered wheelchair and best friend. I thought I’d let you into the as yet undisclosed fact that I have been beavering away for weeks, secretly bringing Charlie into the 21st century.

The basic model I had in mind will have wing mirrors, kerb-crawling wheels, and a twin-exhaust, turbocharged engine. He needs a few extra parts added too before he is anywhere near complete so I’m going to build in reversing lights and beeps to warn those pedestrians who I appreciate, don’t have eyes in the back of their heads and cannot tell when I’m about to back out unless I holler, “Oy … out the way … wheelchair reversing … warning”, which is a bit long-winded and usually too late when the individual in question’s toes have already been flattened.

stiar climbing wheelchair in bubble

Then, there are the all-essential indicators, (front and rear), which will flash left and right indicating whether I’m about to grab that last loaf of Hovis in the reduced section in Tesco’s (left), or whether I’m going for the special offer on Heinz Spaghetti Hoops in aisle ten, (on my right). Oh! Did I forget to mention the speedometer; essential, of course, when one is traveling at turbo-speed with my go-faster stripes on the side, up the M8 motorway to Glasgow. Obviously, the weather is a little inclement up there and, therefore, an enclosed shatterproof glass bubble complete with wipers will need to be included.

A buggy board would be handy for the children; a slight improvement on the first design which incorporated a pair of roller skates and a piece of string tied to the back. Also, please do give me an air horn to warn the more able citizens of my town that I am at great risk of running them over if they don’t leap out of my way on the cycle path. This will, in future, be marked with a cycle and a wheelchair icon, indicating that yes, I do indeed have wheels instead of legs, therefore I am entitled to travel in the cycle lane.

Naturally, Charlie will be solar powered thereby eliminating any need for electricity, or the exorbitantly priced fuel they charge these days at the gas/petrol stations. There are a couple of improvements left that could be made to make Charlie the real star of the show and a class A1 model. He needs to be able to travel over water so that he can keep up with the twin-engine boats that shoot across the sea when on holiday, (or at least, withstand a sudden rainstorm at Brighton in mid-summer). I thought perhaps a hovercraft skirt would look rather fetching (albeit a little feminine for Charlie).

Finally, I’ve just got to be able to trust my six-wheeled friend to get me all from England to Australia to visit my sister on Christmas Day. I thought some wings, carefully fashioned from  flexible fibreglass and in the model of the late Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (pictured below), would just add that finishing touch.

Voilà!

chitty bang bang lego prototype

 

 

BROKEN PIECES

 

 

 

broken soul

There once was hope, when I was whole
but shattered now, I lie with you
My dreams are but a breath away
in cloud so high, sky deepest blue

  Reflections of my inner soul
are fragments scattered on the ground
These shards of glass that glisten so
when depths within my mind are found

My heartbeat slows like tidal ebb
It scolds me while my world is bleak
and forms a map in front of me
paved with ashes; words unique

  Broken pieces; shadow sought
Thoughts flow fast but mind so scarred
where once I was; I am no more
Dust to dust; I’ve fallen hard

THE ART OF HUGGING

cute monkeys hugging

Hugging – have you seriously thought about hugging? It has multiple benefits, and we should all be doing more of it. If we were, half the wars and battles wouldn’t be taking place, and thank the Lord that no-one has invented an anti-hugging vaccination. Hugs are much more life-preserving and also far more pleasant than coming down with a nasty case of chickenpox or the flu.

Did you know that you need at least one hug a day for reassurance, two a day for survival, four for maintenance and eight for growth? This fact would explain why I am reasonably ‘happy little bunny’ still breathing, in reasonable ‘nick’ but only two-feet-and-eight-inches tall.

If anyone would like to contribute to another few inches of height, I wouldn’t object or turn you away.

Hugging is environmentally friendly and ecologically sound. It builds self-esteem and also builds strong arm and shoulder muscles both of which are far less costly than building another new block of apartments and therefore, is economically viable.

It slows down aging which probably means I’ll feel like I’m ninety-seven before I reach sixty given that I live alone and don’t have a handy partner or nearby children.

However, I do hug the odd friend, (as I tend to prefer my friends to be a little on the peculiar side, like myself rather than conventionally rational).

I have to confess that I have a rather unusual habit in that I have been, on the odd occasion, known to approach and embrace a complete stranger. Hugging in those circumstances is sometimes okay, especially when it is to offer comfort or solace.

However, there are times such as when it’s with the bus driver en route or a waiter with a full tray of tea and scones which are not a wise idea. Also, cuddling up with the airplane pilot of a Jumbo Jet in mid-flight, or offering an embrace with Her Majesty, The Queen in the middle of giving her Christmas speech, etc., it can be seen as somewhat inappropriate.

Hugging also releases the feel-good hormone, oxytocin that is nature’s anti-depressant, so if they were readily available, we would have a lot more warm and happy people about and a lot less diazepam/valium needed.

A first rate hug ideally needs to have two elements, a hugger, and a huggee, preferably willing participants and not someone like ‘The Incredible Hulk’ squeezing the life out of a reluctant Miniature Chihuahua. Likewise, a hug needs to be shared between two beings, or more if near to hand as clutching thin air is no better than attempting to embrace a boa-constrictor.

At this point, I should say that I am offering free demonstrations. In addition, all contributions to myself will be gratefully received as I am saving up for my Blue-Peter badge.

healing hugs

 

CHAMELEON SKIN

 

chameleon_2048x1152

She is what she is … or is she, indeed?

She’s perplexed, befuddled, embroiled

Lost her mind along enmeshed journeys

She belongs, does she not to this world?

~~~

Is she real or a trickster, a fraud inside?

Not knowing her mind, too caught up in lies

Or perhaps, revealing her open wounds

You win some, you lose some, just look in her eyes

~~~

She’s not without fear though she’s scared of the thrill

The rollercoaster won’t come to an end

She writes her life’s story in ink, so black

You may wonder how her thoughts are penned

~~~

Innocence seen, and innocence gone

A fight in a nightmare; she holds her breath

The howls can be heard from far away

Will she ever return from the brink of death

~~~

You know her, you don’t, you think that you may

She’s a friend, a soldier, blood-kin

She lives or she dies; knowing the shadow side

Unknown, she wears her chameleon skin