Super Power

A friend -- which one I can't for the life of me remember -- once asked me, "if you could have any super power what would you choose?"

Now I've always known what I would love to be able to above all else. So I responded straight away with, "I'd like to fly." *insert dreamy expression here*

My friend then says, "That's stupid. Everyone wants that. It doesn't count. It has to be a real super power!"

*Insert me being stunned and hurt*

I attempted to justify my choice by explaining that if I could fly without mechanical aid I could be free. I could soar and dive and be weightless -- well kind of -- for a while. I could go as fast or as slow as I'd want and I could reach heights that others could only dream of.

Yes, I did spend a lot of my childhood day dreaming about being free. Flying was the free way out. It also meant no one would be able to tell my parents where I had gone. Yep, I had it all figured out.

So when my friend said what they'd said I was rather devastated.

It's been about a year since then. Actually it may even be closer to two years. Whatever, it was some time ago. Anyway, I was sitting down playing a game on my phone while my thoughts ran over that particular conversation. And you know what? I started getting really angry.

Partly I was angry because I couldn't remember which friend it was and partly because they had no fucking right to say what I thought was stupid. I mean I would never say that about anyone's ideas or thoughts. Maybe that's from all the times I've been told I'm stupid, worthless, useless, if I had half a brain I'd be dangerous etc. It undermines every part of you and I couldn't live with myself if I ever did that.

You know, it's just another person making me feel worthless. I suppose I shouldn't care or at the very least I should be used to it. But I'm not used to it and I will always fucking care when someone makes me feel like shit.

If I could remember who the person was, and if I'm still friends with them, I think I'd tell them to fuck off. One or two years late but whatever.

Being Alone

One facet of being "sick" that I find extremely hard is being alone. Not everyone in my situation is and I truly believe they are extraordinarily lucky. Not that they feel the same way of course.

Part of being alone is knowing that the majority of people I talk with have absolutely no idea what BPD is let alone how it affects my life. They will tend to home in on the anxiety and depression and try to relate by telling me about a time they were sad or scared. While I appreciate their obvious attempt to understand and sympathise I just find it, well, just no. Don't do it because it doesn't help. All they really do is make the gap between myself and, seemingly, everyone else become huge. I already feel alienated, alone, worthless and crazy so I don't need to be reminded by others. Kthanxbai

Another part of my aloneness began when I was first diagnosed with anxiety -- I laugh now at how far from the mark that diagnosis was. I decided that my closest friends deserved, and should, know about my diagnosis and how it has affected me during the time I've known them. All those times I burst into tears for no apparent reason suddenly made sense.
My idea was to invite my friends to dinner and explain it all. Basically bare my soul and hope I still had friends afterwards. Only one is still sort of floating around the edges. The others left that night and I never heard from them again. Yeah, exactly, right when I needed my friends they were nowhere to be seen.
Needless to say I've been extremely careful about making friends since that happened. Even so, more often than not the novelty of a "broken friend" wears off and they forget about me.

Finally I tend to end up pushing the remaining people away. I mean, from past experience, they're only going to leave anyway. It's definitely not something I'm proud of or like doing and while it's easy to say I won't do it again, I know I will until I gain confidence in myself and fully learn to trust others. Who knows, I might learn one day!

There's one last addition to my loneliness. There are some people who are still around, still friends and who resist my urges to push them away. One large part of me is eternally grateful. Another part is dismayed and hurt because these people won't, and don't, listen if I mention things aren't going so well for me. Of course I'm not easy to be around during those times and I'm downright morbid sometimes too. However, their "get over it" type attitudes and the "oh no not this again" mentality doesn't inspire much confidence in me. I'm not about to talk to someone who doesn't understand that moods and bad times are cyclical and that because I've gone through it once doesn't mean I'll never go through it again.
It's not like we ask a woman why she's having another period when she's already had her first one. Moods are much the same although the cycles can be much more erratic.

So all in all I'm alone partly by choice, partly by uncaring people and partly from people who can't understand that this shit works in cycles. It angers and saddens me that I end up taking all the blame and that I willingly accept that it's all my fault. But then, like I would really blame someone else when it's clear I'm a total and utter failure and given the chance I wouldn't want to know me either. Still, I'm alone and while it's better for others, and sometimes me, it's not something that helps.