Thursdays taste of bacon, also borderline personality disorder and me.

somethinksthingsandothers

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Hey. That’s me!

Labels are awful. Clothing labels itch. Sticky labels, well they leave sticky residue…and personality labels? They’re generally negative, and rarely accurate. My label? The moody one as a child. The married one as an adult. Or the….diagnosed one.

My names Beth and I have borderline personality disorder.

That’s a label I don’t like. And for the longest of times was ashamed of. But now? Its a label I own, and accept.

B.P.D is a crippling, horrendous illness. It’s an insidious disease that skews everything. It makes me irrational and paranoid. It leaves me with such a fear of my husband and children leaving, or being taken from me , it wakes me up at night. It convinces me everyone hates me. It exhausts me so staying awake takes all my energy, whilst at the same time some nights I can’t sleep because of the cacophony of noise…

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