Lipstick and Letters: Borderline Personality Disorder and my former self

 

Dear me of November 1996

This is probably the hardest letter I’ve ever had to write because I am going to admit to something I have never told anyone – ever.

I’m the one who bullied the fat black kid in school way back in 1996.

I know that YOU have hidden it deep down. You’ve buried it and even tried to help the teachers and kids figure out who it was… who left those hateful notes in her locker, who put glue all over her books and book bag, who wrote the N word on that car her parents gave her because she felt too scared to ride the bus. It was me who toilet papered the tree that grew outside her living room window. It was me who crushed her lunch after I sprayed paint inside her locker and ruined her brand new fake rabbit coat. And it was me who wrote all those notes. All those letters telling her how horrible she was because she was a disgusting, black n-word.

 

You and I both know it started as a joke: a dare to glue her favorite book together. And it was funny. She got a new book, and she seemed okay with it, but she didn’t laugh along with us. I don’t know why, but that angered me. How dare SHE look down on me and my hilarious prank!

You had never been in trouble before. You were a wonderful student and were friends with most of the students. But for those 2 weeks you were something else. You were someone else. You were me.

I’m that person inside your head that always tries to get you to do the craziest of things. I’m the person inside you that wants to wreck havoc and destroy your world. I am your Borderline Personality Disorder and in about six years, we’ll finally meet at a local mental health clinic and there we will grow to understand each other.

Right now you’re fighting urges, MY urges. And you’re doing an amazing job keeping me locked away. You’re going to feel crazy at times, and sometimes your depression will nearly consume you. But you’ll keep all that in check too. You are the strongest woman I know!

All that you feel is real.  The thoughts of suicide, the wanting to run away, and the isolation you feel is all very, very real. But once we meet, your life will be so very much better. There is medication to help, but just knowing that this thing – this THING is someTHING – helps tremendously. And we’re not alone. There are a lot of us out in the universe. And for the most part, once we join our two selves together, we’re better. We may not be perfectly healed, but we’re better. And that’s a wonderful feeling.

So calm your nerves, read your books, keep me suppressed and journal your heart out. The next 6 years will fly by. 

Until then, I’ll bide my time ‘till it’s time for us to unite. 

Waiting…

Your other half, Kimmy