There are stages of grief that people must go through when they lose a loved one.

We bargain.
We deny.
We become angry.
We become sad.
Some choose to finally accept it.

When I was first diagnosed I denied it 100%. I knew there was a more justifiable reason for my behavior. After all that weed I chose to smoke had to have been laced with something. It pushed me into strong psychosis that I had not been in. So it was the weed, not BD.

Then I hit depression. I fell into this hole that I never thought I would climb out of. I lost all of my motivation, energy, ambitions, and happiness. It was like joy went on a permanent vacation and I was left with nothing but sadness.

Then I became angry. Why me??!! Why did I have to get this. I mean 1 in 10 children get it from a parent. Why was I so lucky? My life will never be the same. I’m going to lose my job, my retirement, my livelihood.

God could you please take this away from me? I lost my husband’s trust and affection. I lost my happiness, I lost me. I will never be the same. The old me is gone. It’s dead.

Acceptance. I’m finally over my depression. I actually feel normal. My sleep has returned and I’m looking at my life through a new set of lenses. I will never be the same, but that’s ok. I accept this illness. I’m not so sure whether it should be considered a gift or a curse. It is what it is and I plan on making the best of my life moving forward.

I hope anyone that has BPD can one day move past all of the obstacles that seem impossible and discover that life can be so good despite the diagnosis.