Developing BPD: Part VIII – Emptiness

The current nine criteria, in no particular order, are as follows:

1. Unclear and/or unstable shifting self-image/identity.
2. Unstable interpersonal relationships; marked by patterns of alternating between idolization and devaluation of others.
3. Mood swings that can elevate to feelings of euphoria rather than happiness and despair rather than sadness.
4. Chronic impulsive and self-destructive behaviours (not including suicidal tendencies or self-harm as indicated as its own criterion) including, but not limited to: spending, sex, reckless driving or stunts, binge eating.
5. Intense fear of rejection and/or abandonment, whether real or perceived.
6. Recurrent or patterns of self-harm, suicidal ideation and suicidal tendencies.
7. Explosive anger.
8. Feelings of emptiness.
9. Loss of touch with reality; patterns of dissociation.

The eighth criterion: Feelings of emptiness

If your life and experience felt like it had no purpose, your life had no meaning, you have no idea who you really are, you have no relationships to comfort you or care for you, and your world was filled with pain, what would you feel?

Would you feel anything?

There was an identity in you, at first, but it was squashed. As soon as she (or he) started to emerge, they were quickly shut down, dismissed, ignored, and suppressed with a ferocity that led you to believe that whomever you were going to be must never be revealed, under any circumstances.

You have no idea how to have meaningful, caring, kind relationships, so how can you connect with anyone? How would you even do that?

Your emotions are like a tornado beating you down, all day, every day, without exception…

You are unable to cope without physically hurting yourself…

There is suicide but you hold on… for now…

What is left?

Well, pretty much what we started with, nothing.

Who we are, who we become, starts in infancy. An identity is built on values and beliefs, forming a personality, and when you have no values, and your beliefs are that you are nothing, then what else can be expected but to feel like nothing.

To feel… well, nothing.

Empty. Pointless. Purposeless. Useless.

It stands to reason that when you are given nothing, you become nothing. When you start with nothing, then there’s nothing to develop, there’s nothing to grow.

There’s just… nothing.

And so an emptiness starts to grow.

If we were told that nothing could grow into a bigger nothing, you would think it wasn’t possible, but it is. And it can.

Emptiness can grow surprisingly large, until it feels as if it permeates to our soul, and fills us with all kinds of nothing.

Except… we are not nothing. I am not nothing. You are not nothing. We never were nothing. We were always someone. Always. We just weren’t taught how to develop that.

I am here, whether I like it or not. And despite what messages were given to me as a child, I am NOT nothing. I never have been.

I am somebody. And I may not know my whole identity yet, but I am learning. I value things like honesty, and knowledge, and compassion, and kindness. And that’s just to start.

And my beliefs have moved from feeling like a nothing to maybe I could be someone. I think I could be. I am still working on it.

Having purpose can be a great and noble thing. For some people. For those of us experiencing the vast emptiness that comes with BPD, finding that purpose, let alone fulfilling it, can be a herculean task. It can overwhelm us. It can depress us. It can make us feel like who we are is confirmed as a nothing because we have no purpose.

Where do we start? What do we do? What do we look for?

Because on top of not having a purpose, we’ve never been shown how to find it when we finally do start searching for it.

First, I want to say to those who feel like they have no purpose, please go easy on yourself here. If you developed BPD, and emptiness is a symptom you experience, no matter to what degree, then there is a reason for that. And it has nothing to do with being a person with no purpose. And it has nothing to do with who you are, even if you aren’t sure of who that is yet.

It has to do with trauma, and the trauma response that formed from that, that basically left you with no skills, no sense of identity, no sense of regulation, no helpful relationships, and coping methods that helped you survive the day.

Finding some great purpose while dealing with all that? I don’t think so.

You are under no obligation to have some grand, noble, save-the-universe kind of purpose. Ever. But especially if you are in recovery, rebuilding and re-parenting. Then that is your purpose, to recover.

Previously your purpose may have been to survive the day. Maybe it still is. And if that’s your purpose, then that’s your purpose.

You can always find another purpose later. Even one grand and to save-the-world. You can have many purposes. Or you can have one. You can have twenty purposes today. And only two tomorrow. Your purpose can help everyone else, or it can be just for you.

Your purpose, should you choose to have one, does not need to follow any rules.

If you’d rather not have a purpose at all then you don’t have to have one.

Seriously.

It’s not mandatory.

For some, it helps to have. For some, it doesn’t. Do what works for you.

If finding a purpose to fill the emptiness helps you, and you can’t find a “good” purpose, I suggest you look in the mirror. Make you your purpose. Even if you’re not yet in recovery. Even if you don’t quite believe you’re worth it yet. Even if you’re still just trying to survive, then make that your purpose.

You are more than enough purpose. You are. You always have been. You always will be.

Taking care of you, whether with self-care or by surviving, you are purpose. All on its own.

The emptiness that comes with the development of BPD can feel cavernous and never-ending. It can feel like it’s the size of the Grand Canyon and deeper than the ocean. It can feel like there is nothing that could possibly fill it. Because there is nothing as huge as the gaping emptiness you feel inside.

There is one thing though.

That can fill the emptiness inside. And it may take some time and practice to develop it, but it is always there, and it always has been. It will never leave, and just needs to be nurtured in order to grow.

And that is you.

You are enough to fill that emptiness. Finding who you are, developing your identity now, discovering your values and beliefs now, is what will fill that emptiness. Or at least start to fill it.

And if you do choose the path of recovery and healing, and you are able to start regulating emotions and relationships, and suddenly the emptiness inside doesn’t feel quite as empty anymore.

And if you want, you can stop right there, and enjoy the fullness that comes from learning who you are, nurturing who you are, exploring who you are, being curious about what values and beliefs you do hold.

Not what you learned (incorrectly) as a child, but who you really are. As someone who might value things like kindness or connection or generosity or knowledge or ambition or dedication, the list goes on and on and on of what values you may hold. There is a world of values and beliefs that will not denigrate or diminish you.

They will fill you up. With every new value you discover and every new belief you develop, you will feel the emptiness becomes less and less. And you will suddenly feel like you understand the feeling of fullness. Because now there is something there.

Now, there is something there to nurture and let it grow.

Filling that emptiness will take time and practice. It won’t be easy. And it won’t happen overnight. There is a lot of building that needs to happen to get that foundation in place. But it can be done. It can. And you are worth every bit of effort and practice it takes.

If you want to start learning who you really are, you can start by discovering what values you hold. Google is a great source to start with. There are hundreds of lists of values out there. Go through them and see if anything sticks with you. Even if it doesn’t make sense. Just notice what you notice.

You don’t have to find anything right away. Keep looking. Again and again and again. Today you may not connect with anything, so try again tomorrow. Try after you’ve slept. Or try after you’ve eaten. Try looking in the morning. Try looking at night. Try looking with a trusted friend.

And if you find one then great. You don’t have to find them all right now. And one is a good place to start. Explore it. Be curious about it. Why that value?

If you have issues connecting with a value, then pick one you know is not a value you hold and explore that one. Why not that one specifically? It might lead you to something you do value.

It’s a learning process, and it can change. A value you hold this week might not be a value you hold next week. As you learn more about yourself, and what is important to you, your values may change too. And that’s okay.

Keep exploring. Always. Every chance you get. Every day.

YOU are the undiscovered territory that needs to be explored. You need to start building yourself, and see what happens.

Developing BPD: Part VII – Rage

The current nine criteria, in no particular order, are as follows:

1. Unclear and/or unstable shifting self-image/identity.
2. Unstable interpersonal relationships; marked by patterns of alternating between idolization and devaluation of others.
3. Mood swings that can elevate to feelings of euphoria rather than happiness and despair rather than sadness.
4. Chronic impulsive and self-destructive behaviours (not including suicidal tendencies or self-harm as indicated as its own criterion) including, but not limited to: spending, sex, reckless driving or stunts, binge eating.
5. Intense fear of rejection and/or abandonment, whether real or perceived.
6. Recurrent or patterns of self-harm, suicidal ideation and suicidal tendencies.
7. Explosive anger.
8. Feelings of emptiness.
9. Loss of touch with reality; patterns of dissociation.

The seventh criterion: Explosive anger

Okay, so this one I may need some outside help with because I don’t actually have issues with rage.

Wait, let me rephrase that. I, personally, do not rage.

I actually have many issues with rage, but it’s mostly with other people’s rage, not mine.

In fact, I rarely get angry, let alone rage. And usually when I do get angry, I cry.

My experience with rage is mostly from my mom and my brother (and later an ex-boyfriend), but mostly, and in my developing years, it was my mom and my brother.

My mom and my brother did not get angry, they raged. They raged with an expertise that made me cry without even trying. I fear rage more that I fear death because of them.

They made me so in tune to rage, that even on a packed subway or on a crowded street (pretty much anywhere), I can see someone flinch the wrong way, or hear the tone in someone’s voice start to peak, and I will automatically go on alert. It’s not exactly a skill, but it is highly tuned, thanks to my family.

So I can’t speak to how explosive rage feels as a part of BPD. It is the single criterion that I do not have.

Yay me.

Because I don’t personally rage, I don’t want to speculate on what it feels like for someone who does experience it. Or why they may have developed it. I can guess why rage would develop, but really I don’t know.

I can tell you that part of why I don’t rage is because of what I saw and experienced with my mom and my brother. The way they would rage instilled a fear in me of rage, and even anger, that I still hold to this day. It is considerably less with some of the recovery I’ve done but I can still feel a twinge of fear in my chest when anyone arounds me starts to exhibit anger.

For those who may be looking here for how explosive rage might develop I am sorry to disappoint you.

Developing BPD: Part VI – No Other Way Out

The current nine criteria, in no particular order, are as follows:

1. Unclear and/or unstable shifting self-image/identity.
2. Unstable interpersonal relationships; marked by patterns of alternating between idolization and devaluation of others.
3. Mood swings that can elevate to feelings of euphoria rather than happiness and despair rather than sadness.
4. Chronic impulsive and self-destructive behaviours (not including suicidal tendencies or self-harm as indicated as its own criterion) including, but not limited to: spending, sex, reckless driving or stunts, binge eating.
5. Intense fear of rejection and/or abandonment, whether real or perceived.
6. Recurrent or patterns of self-harm, suicidal ideation and suicidal tendencies.
7. Explosive anger.
8. Feelings of emptiness.
9. Loss of touch with reality; patterns of dissociation.

The sixth criterion: Recurrent or patterns of self-harm, suicidal ideation and suicidal tendencies.

Suicide.

A loaded, heavy, dark word.

Also a loaded, heavy, dark place to be.

This is the final step. This is the final place where it might be safe. Where everything isn’t broken, dysfunctional and painful. Where we won’t have to try and figure ourselves out. We won’t have to try and figure others out. Who we are suddenly becomes free. And it finally, really, doesn’t matter who we are, because we are gone.

It is tempting. Very tempting. A lot.

If you didn’t have any idea who you were or how to find yourself, what would you do?

If it felt like who you are didn’t matter, what would you do?

If all your relationships were dysregulated and dysfunctional, what would you do?

If your body was marked and scarred and carried the weight of the world, what would you do?

If your reality was too painful to face and your last place to maybe feel safe wasn’t working for you, where would you want to go?

It is one of the toughest issues those with BPD face, the constant call of suicide. The constant temptation that the only way out is to die.

It isn’t easy. Sometimes we want it. Sometimes we don’t. Sometimes it’s all we can think of. Sometimes we have a plan. Sometimes we execute that plan.

Death, is the only place to be safe and free. Who wouldn’t want that?

It’s not a trait or symptom we particularly like. Especially since a lot of professional help seems at a loss when it comes to treating those with BPD.

If there is another way, then show it to us. Show us that death isn’t the only way to be safe and free. Show us that this magical safe place is somewhere we can go to whenever we need it. Show us that there can be life and reality that isn’t filled with pain.

As I’ve said before (if you read the other posts on this), when you don’t have an identity, it is painful. When you have no support, care or comfort, it is painful. When your coping methods are dangerous, unsafe, and harmful, it is painful. When you are repeatedly abandoned, it is painful. When your relationships are as toxic as poison, it is painful.

When your day is filled with pain, no matter what you do or where you go, where can you go that won’t be painful?

I can only think of one place.

At least, at first, I could only think of one place. Until I found help. It took me years, and many professionals to finally get help, but I never stopped looking.

I’ve attempted suicide myself. And I’ve had days, weeks, even months, filled with nothing but thoughts of wanting to die.

There was a couple of times I was disappointed that my attempts were unsuccessful. And yes, there have been more than one. I’ve also seen the light of the next day and felt relieved I wasn’t dead.

It was a tiring conflict that lived in me.

I would swing between wanting nothing more than to be dead. And then so relieved when I wasn’t. I didn’t understand it.

One thing I understand now, is that me, the real me –the deeply buried, suppressed me– that would have grown in a comforting, supportive, compassionate household was still there. And she wanted to live. She wanted a chance.

I didn’t recognize her then, but I recognize her now. And I want to be her. I want to give her the chance she never got. I want to give her the compassion she never got. I want to give her the support and care she never got. She deserves a chance.

I understand how tempting it is to be free of the pain. It is more tempting than words can describe. And I wish that everyone would be saved because they all deserve that chance. Every single one of them.

I hope if you are ever one of them, please stay. Find a reason. Any reason. It doesn’t have to be big or noble. It can be anything, any reason, doesn’t matter, just find one and stay. Please.

It’s tough to spend the day wanting to die. It’s tough to find a light at the end of the dark tunnel. It is there. Sometimes you have to chase it. No matter how dark it seems, there is ALWAYS light. Always. Sometimes you really have to search for the light. And sometimes that light is you.

Create a suicide prevention plan, and include anyone you might trust in that plan so that when the thoughts grow to urges and urges grow to action, you have something in place to help you.

Please stay. Chase the treatment you need to finally find your own identity. Build regulated, comforting, compassionate relationships with other people, as we well as with yourself. Find better ways to cope that won’t scar you. Find you again. Or for the first time.

Please stay.

Developing BPD: Part V – Please Don’t Leave

The current nine criteria, in no particular order, are as follows:

1. Unclear and/or unstable shifting self-image/identity.
2. Unstable interpersonal relationships; marked by patterns of alternating between idolization and devaluation of others.
3. Mood swings that can elevate to feelings of euphoria rather than happiness and despair rather than sadness.
4. Chronic impulsive and self-destructive behaviours (not including suicidal tendencies or self-harm as indicated as its own criterion) including, but not limited to: spending, sex, reckless driving or stunts, binge eating.
5. Intense fear of rejection and/or abandonment, whether real or perceived.
6. Recurrent or patterns of self-harm, suicidal ideation and suicidal tendencies.
7. Explosive anger.
8. Feelings of emptiness.
9. Loss of touch with reality; patterns of dissociation.

The fifth criterion: Intense fear of rejection and/or abandonment, whether real or perceived

When you were born, how did your parents treat you? Did they respond to your crying? Did they meet your needs? Were they there for you? In any way? If you were upset or hurt, did they comfort you? Did they support you? Did they even acknowledge you? If you were happy, did they share in your excitement? Did they encourage you to enjoy your happiness?

Were you left to fend for yourself? Were you dismissed and ignored?

The thing is, we often feel abandoned because for a long time, in many ways, we were.

Every time we cried, and we weren’t supported or given any kindness or comfort, that is abandonment.
Every time we went hungry, that is abandonment.
Every time we needed our parents to guide us through new territory, and they didn’t (or wouldn’t), that is abandonment.
Every time we had feelings about something, and they didn’t encourage us to explore the feeling, or help us manage the feeling, that is abandonment.
Every time we were curious to learn more about our world, and they shut us down, that is abandonment.
Every time we were left to fend for ourselves, that is abandonment.

It adds up. And as children, we learn. We learn fast.

When you are essentially abandoned – physically, mentally, emotionally – and over an extended period of time, what else could you learn other than abandonment? When you are repeatedly abandoned, how can you, in any capacity, not expect that to continue to be your experience for the rest of your life?

Sadly, it doesn’t take months and years of repetitive abandonment to feel it, it could have been one pivotal moment that resonated with you, and you were abandoned then that will stick with you, even if further abandonment doesn’t occur again.

Chronically abandoning someone, whether intentionally or not, will imprint on them. It will engrave into a child’s young, growing mind that people cannot be trusted. Others cannot be trusted to be there. Others cannot be trusted to be safe. Others cannot be trusted to comfort you. Others cannot be trusted to be kind to you. Others cannot be trusted to ensure that your needs are met, or that your needs even matter. Others cannot be trusted under any circumstances.

And if our parents can’t be trusted, then neither can anyone else.

And we have, in fact, been abandoned.

You try not feeling abandoned when your parents were never there for you. Ever. You try not feeling like everyone will betray you when that’s all your parents did. You try not feeling like everyone will hurt you when that is all your parents did.

Whether the experience was a pivotal moment of abandonment, or chronic abandonment in all the ways you can think of, it teaches us that we are alone. For everything. And even the rare moments when our parents do step up and are there for us, those moments are the ones that become the exception to the rule.

As time rolls by, and we grow up, we learn not only that others cannot be trusted, but we cannot be trusted either.

How do you trust yourself when you don’t know who you are or how to handle the world? You haven’t been taught anything but pain, fear, dysregulation, and how not to be seen or heard. You’ve been taught, pretty clearly I might add, that the world is unsafe and dangerous. You’ve been taught that no one can be trusted.

Not even yourself.

You haven’t been taught any skills, or given any guidance.

You can’t build where there is no foundation. And you have no materials and no tools.

If you could abandon yourself, you would.

That is how much abandonment you have experienced. That is how much you expect to be abandoned.

Feeling abandonment is especially tough as we get older because by then (hopefully), we have encountered people who aren’t abandoning us at the drop of a hat. We have encountered people who want to be there for us. We have encountered kindness and comfort and support.

And we stand there, like a deer in the headlights. Just watching and waiting…

Whomever this supportive, caring, kind person claims to be as someone who doesn’t and won’t abandon us, we eye it suspiciously. We proceed with great caution. We put it under the light and examine it real closely for the crack where the abandonment will come spilling out at any minute. We know it is coming. We can feel it.

And if this person isn’t imminently ready to abandon us then it is just a matter of time.

Maybe we will leave first.

Get it over with.

Rip the bandage off, one time.

Why prolong the pain?

Why prolong the inevitable?

And so, even though we now have examples of people who want to be there for us, we are not swayed.

Even if the other tells us they won’t leave, it’s only because they haven’t realized yet. But they will leave. They will. Of that, we are certain.

And in the true spirit of dysregulation, we see abandonment reinforced, time and time again. Even when we initiate the abandonment ourselves. Even when the evidence starts to show us that we aren’t about to be abandoned. Even when we desperately need connection and support. That no one can be trusted. That we are alone.

And so the seeds of being worthless, useless, unlovable –that we are nothing, start to creep in and plant roots.

Given our history thus far, it’s really not that much of a jump to the derogatory, abusive, and sometimes violent, ways we speak to ourselves, to start to really take hold in us.

And while we’re still very young, too.

We have no identity. We don’t know how to be with other people. We don’t know how to regulate ourselves. We cope in the most destructive ways possible, often causing us bodily harm. And now, no one can be trusted to be safe, supportive, caring, and kind.

What other reason could there be? We must be unlovable. We must be a nobody. We must not matter at all. To anyone. Ever. What other possible reason could there be for us to not be given kindness, comfort, safety, and support?

It’s not like our parents ever stop and say to us, “Oh, so I meant to tell you, I don’t actually know how to properly parent you. I have no skills of my own that I can teach you. I don’t know how to be with other people either. I am just as dysregulated as you are. I have no idea how to comfort you. I don’t even know how to comfort myself. So, if you happen to be on a self-destructive path, wondering who you are and how to live, don’t blame yourself. I am on that path myself, so it looks like we’re both screwed. But it isn’t your fault.”

I don’t want to diminish any trauma that my mom has been through, because what I do know of her history, it was NOT good. And it makes sense why she wasn’t able to teach me regulation and safety, among other things.

But I digress…

While the experience of abandonment was what we were taught in the past, it does NOT have to be our experience today. There are, in fact, people who will not abandon us.

Honestly.

And when someone does leave, it isn’t because we are unlovable. It isn’t because we are unworthy. It isn’t because we are nothing. Most of the time, in fact, it won’t have much to do with us at all.

It seems a far-fetched thought I know. But it is true. It really is.

True, there will be people that will leave us, that’s just the nature of life. And some people it may be best for us to leave first. It can go either way. But what I do promise you is that you are NOT being left because you are unlovable or unworthy.

I can’t say for anyone that there won’t be someone who will leave you for reasons that will most assuredly feel like abandonment, but those people have their own crap to deal with, and at the end of the day, even if they are mean enough to say that you are unlovable or unworthy, THEY ARE WRONG.

You hear me? THEY. ARE. WRONG.

They are.

Seriously.

No matter who leaves, you are ALWAYS worthy and worth loving. ALWAYS. Maybe not by that person, but why they might leave does not diminish your worth one bit.

Ever.

What you grew up with was not what you were supposed to get. You were supposed to be loved, and cared for and supported. You NEVER should have been abandoned, in any way, at any time. And if it ever happened “by accident”, like in a mall, then you should have been comforted and told, repeatedly, that it was an accident, and you weren’t abandoned, and you never will be.

I haven’t personally worked on abandonment per se, to be able to offer any tips on how to reduce that feeling. Mostly I started challenging it every time I thought it. My psychiatrist was also what helped me challenge that thinking, especially in the beginning. Working on healing some of my trauma, like self-esteem and my identity, has by default lessened my sense of abandonment.

Finding people I believe won’t abandon me isn’t second nature for me yet. But I am much closer to it than I’ve ever been. It’s nice to not feel like everyone thinks I suck.

Challenge your thoughts. Always. Challenge them. Check for evidence, and NOT from your parents or whomever was toxic in your life and upbringing. Challenge it. Over and over and over again.

People may leave but you are ALWAYS loveable and worth it. ALWAYS.