You know you're borderline when...

Or you think the bus driver is driving slow just to annoy the passengers.

You know you're borderline when in a general "how are you feeling" thread (not on this site) you mention that you've been sick for several days now and had to go to the hospital. The posts following yours don't mention that, but address another poster instead who was feeling a little gloomy, so you think, "Well, I guess they don't care that I had to go to the hospital." No, I didn't make a post stating that they don't care, but boy was I tempted.

OMG! when I was staying with my mom, I was doing tons of gardening for her, scraping invasive vines off the roots of her rosebushes like a mad green dental hygienist. One day she makes me a lovely bowl of wet pasta, then dumps a cup of grated cheese on it, FAR more than I like. She goes, well that's how your brother likes it. I don't think it's borderline, I think it's something else! but I don't want to even guess what.

Sneaking off to see your mother because you think the world is against you but understand that your mother is more crazy and against you to begin with I guess no one loves me !!!

You're pdoc made you wait 30 mins in her waiting room so you get the shits and leave and realise that she doesn't really care and you are much less important than any other patient.

you text one of your children (the only one who talks to you) and it takes an hour for her to answer so that means she doesn't care and you don't answer her text at all cos you're mad at her for taking an hour to answer because (you think) she doesnt' care

OK, this one is convoluted.

You call Wal-Mart because you're moving and need boxes. They tell you they'll have some available after 10:00 PM, or they can take your name and number and call you after 7:00 AM. You don't drive, and your husband works second-shift hours, so you choose the 10:00 option. Only when you get there, the customer service people tell you that you have been "misinformed." The stock has only just arrived, and they have no boxes. Leave your name and number, and come back at 7:00 AM. You leave angry because of the wasted trip.

So you go home and call them back, wanting to talk to a supervisor because you've been "lied to." The supervisor ends up saying that even the 7:00 information is now incorrect; they no longer do things that way, and you're better off showing up randomly around midnight if you want boxes. You are even more angry now. "Oh, midnight now? So that person who said 7:00, she lied too? You people need to get your story straight." And you hang up on the supervisor. (Really overreacting, because legally they don't even HAVE to give you boxes.)

Now you're so mad that you walk out of the house, no purse or wallet or keys to get back in, bound and determined that you'll go dumpster diving if you have to, but you're getting those fracking boxes! Only--you are disabled. Not just needing a cane, but also you have night blindness. You get a half a block from your home, out of the reach of the street lights, and you can't see an inch in front of you. Your feet aren't real sure because there is no sidewalk, the ground isn't level, the shoulder is narrow, and because you can't see, you're terrified you're going to drift into the street and be mowed down by a passing car.

You stumble on until you find the driveway of a closed business, and then you just stand there. At least you're safe from traffic now. Maybe your husband will come looking for you, like he did last time you stormed out of the house mad. Or maybe one of these cars zooming by might notice you and ask if you're all right, whereupon you can explain that you can't see and are afraid to walk any farther. So you stand there. And stand there. And finally realize that nobody in any of the passing cars really cares enough to wonder about you. And that your husband isn't coming. So you start blindly stumbling and feeling your way back home, even though you're panicking because you can't see where you're putting your feet, and your feet are unsteady enough as it is.

So you come home and you find your husband mad at you because you were foolish enough to storm out the door when you KNOW you have those problems. Now you feel like a total p.o.s because your husband doesn't care about your feelings, only whether or not your actions inconvenience him.

You really know you're borderline when you totally expect that your last post in this thread is going to get a bunch of tl;dr and nobody really cares.

What is "tl;dr"? and come on, we at least have to be AWAKE to care! It IS Saturday morning in some parts of the world, ya know! (and in those parts, it is also Detroit, so who feels sorry for whom now?!) I am glad / sorry to know more about what life is like for you. That sounded more like a nightmare.

The letters "tl;dr" stands for "too long; didn't read," and according to a popular online slang dictionary, it is "said whenever a nerd makes a post that is too long to bother reading." Thank you for bothering.

Yes, it was pretty scary. What hurts now is that my husband doesn't seem to understand, when I am squirrelly sometimes, this is not something I choose. If I were having a seizure, he wouldn't be mad at me, because he would recognize it as a brain disorder that is beyond my control. It's the same with mental illness, but he seems to think I can turn it on and off at will, like a light switch. If I could, don't you think I'd leave it OFF? And yes, as I've hinted in other posts, how I feel or what's going on in my head matters far less (to him or to anyone else) than how I act on the outside. I can be falling apart inside, and nobody gives a rat's patoot, as long as I do what's expected of me. And if I'm so bad that I can't do what's expected of me, people care about that--but not because I'm falling apart. Because I'm not performing up to standard.

Lovebirdsflying: that sounds terrifying.

I've stomped off out of the house with no shoes/purse/wallet or whatever, thinking someone come after me. Yeah right. Why would they want to deal with me all pissy.

You know your borderline when your guy tells you "you need to get out of this funk your in." But you know he really means he doesn't care, nor does he want to deal with you. He would be better off if you weren't around and so would the kids. So now you sit here trying to figure out how to leave and where can you go b/c lets face it your just a burden to everyone.

This deserves more than just a thanks!

OMG.

Was I the one that wrote this????

Can more than relate.

Tell me about it!

If I had been able to stay awake another night, I would have been here and been the first one to reply.

lol

Billi

When I came in, my husband said, "I don't like being married to you when you're like this." He acknowledges that I am not "like this" most of the time, but apparently I'm supposed to be perfect at all times. I can't get him to see, it's like driving a wagon pulled by raging wild tigers instead of horses. It takes a supreme effort to control it, and most of the time I can, but sometimes I can't. It isn't something I choose. It's something I'm stuck with.

Youre so afraid of hubby abandoning you, that even though you are past thinking he might be having an affair because he is at home in bed with you at nights, you wake up in a panic to intently watch him for movements of breathing only to jab him in the ribs because you get horribly panicked that he may of died and left you here in this horrible life on your own. Once he moves or groans, youre whole mood changes and you turn over and feel annoyed he is taking up all the space in the bed and also that he held his breath and made you scared.

I feel like I have to be perfect all the time, too. Damn that's difficult, no its down right impossible! But yet I try to do it. WTH.

As for the not being able to get him to "see", I don't think any of us will get those who don't have borderline to "see". And man I wish they could. But at least we have each other.

My husband is generally pretty awesome now that he's buried his own demons, but I still find it frustrating that I can't get angry about something without it coming across as a rage to him

That you stick the middle finger at your friends parents because you were so pissed only to realize you really don't hate them and actually just feel fusterated but your friend hates you know and you try to apologize by giving a white lie in the end never satisfied and just feel like crying because you wonder why do you act this way with everything >.<

I have a close friend that asked me why can't I just be normal....wtf is that???

You go to DBT class. On the ice breaker sheet it asks if you have any anxieties about class. So you say "I have a bit of a perception problem. Sometimes what you say and what I hear are not the same thing." When one of the group leaders says "well that's good to know. we'll work on that." You respond "I'll probably clam up." Meanwhile, it seems as if everyone is staring at you and you wonder why you said anything in the first place.

So later in group, you get confused. Ask a question, a group leader tries to explain. Then says "by the expression on your face, I'm guessing your not hearing me." Gee thanks. Now I'm feeling even more uncomfortable than before. Remind me why did I open my mouth!

You're waiting outside your shrinks office debating with yourself whether you should make the ***** wait 30mins like she did last week....

You wake up from a nap, find the house completely empty with no note left as to where anyone went, and you tell yourself they probably thought, "Let's get away from the evil sleeping ***** before she wakes up and we have to interact with her."

You SI, to the point that you are sure you need stitches, but you won't go because you know the doctors will see that you have BPD and just think you were doing it for attention (when in reality, you did it because maybe it would take the edge of, to keep you from doing something worse)

I have a supply of butterfly stitches for those moments Nic