Ten Little Things

Last May, Mind published my article on Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). Going public about my condition was one of the scariest things I've done, but the response I received was overwhelmingly positive and utterly humbling. I therefore felt like something of a fraud when I discovered that I had been misdiagnosed, and that all along I had been experiencing not BPD - but ADHD.

Already clued up on the unpleasant, painful traits of BPD, ADHD quickly became my new hyperfocus go-to, and I started to understand how the misdiagnosis had happened. The following post was written entirely about BPD, but to me in almost every instance ADHD could have been substituted. So much centres around the Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria that characterises ADHD for many of us. I have decided not to adjust my original wording, as it was written from the heart and in good faith - but if you have ADHD, or love somebody who lives with it, I hope you will identify some parallels and maybe find a helpful suggestion or two.

With the popularity of magician and comedian Joe Tracini's lockdown videos on Twitter, and the success of his recent book, Ten Things I Hate About Me, BPD or EUPD (Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder) is finally starting to enter the consciousness of the general public, but there is still a way to go. "What can I do/say to help?" is a question, asked by many friends, that has touched me deeply. "Let me know if I get it wrong", others have said (generally the ones who never have).

Tomorrow is Blue Monday, contentiously labelled the 'saddest day of the year', so what better time for me to draw on some of the content of Joe's extraordinary - and, incredibly, often hilarious - account in order to illustrate how and why certain throwaway comments can feel pretty devastating to someone living with BPD; and then to celebrate a few of the soul-sustaining gems that I will always treasure.

The things not to say

1. You're overreacting!

I know. Overreaction characterises BPD, unfortunately. It is the pounding, adrenaline-pumping black heart of it.

"9.05 a.m.: Walk into the bathroom and my feet are a bit cold on the tiles. Gripped with an overwhelming sense of regret at taking off my socks and beat myself up because of my hasty sock decisions, which are just an emblem of all the bad decisions I've made in my life." JT

2. Learn from your mistakes.

I won't. I'll just hate myself all the more for making them again and again (life with BPD is a bit like Groundhog Day), and for your subsequent disappointment in me.

"... you're a person who isn't bad, doesn't want to be bad, doesn't intend to do bad things but does them anyway and finds it virtually impossible to explain why ..." JT

3. There's nothing wrong with you.

Always from a place of kindness, this one - and appreciated for that - but actually, there is something very wrong with me. If you knew half of my thoughts and feelings, heard the things I force myself not to say; if you could sense the immense effort I plough into appearing 'normal', holding back a wall of paranoia and self-loathing - you would see I'm really not 'right'. I've just got pretty good, over the years, at seeming normal during everyday life.

4. Don't dwell on it.

Oh, I will. I have tried every mindfulness and visualisation trick going: the worry train; the list of problems you tear up and throw out of the window (metaphorically, of course - I can't abide litter-bugs and roar at them from my car); bringing everything back to 'the breath'. I have personified my troubles as a goblin sitting on my bed, and worked through the imagined process of killing it, chopping it up and flinging the pieces to the far corners of the globe (a tad dark, I know), only to wake the next morning (or next month, or 10 years down the line) to find it gloating in my face, peskier and more pernicious than ever. My inability to let things go is probably the most debilitating of all my symptoms.

5. Don't take it personally!

I have lost count of the times well-intentioned folks have slung this one my way. If only it was that easy! Even a vaguely negative comment from a stranger on Facebook has a visceral effect on me: my stomach contracts, adrenaline floods my system and my heart feels as if it's pounding in my brain. For someone with BPD, everything is personal, however egotistical that may sound.

"I react to a possible dirty look on a bus with the same emotional response as if a loved one told me they hate me." JT

6. Nothing.

With our innate fear of abandonment, the worst thing to say to someone with BPD is nothing at all. We are intense, we are needy, we can be hard work - but please, please do not ghost or slow-fade us. You have no idea of the agonised torment it triggers. Tell us you need some time off (and take it - bloody hell, I would!); tell us (at worst) that we are simply too difficult and you need to walk away (we will actually understand - we know we are!) ... but please don't say nothing.

The best things folks have said

7. That must be so difficult.

Having upset two friends (a couple) some time ago, thanks to unfounded paranoia that I was being left out of a particular group, I had no choice but to blurt out "I've got BPD" ... and proceed to do my best to explain it to the friend who had, quite rightly, called me on my behaviour. She listened, gave me all the time I needed and then said, "Poor you. That must be so difficult." She didn't pretend to fully understand, but she heard me and she forgave me. I am grateful for her kindness, and for her forthright challenge in the first place.

8. Don't be a twat!

Generally reserved for old friends who know me well, this kind of comment can be just the ticket when I'm on the cusp of disappearing up my own whatsit in a whirlwind of self-doubt-fuelled mental anguish. My oldest and dearest friend Ruth has always known precisely when to wheel it out in order to catch me off guard and laugh in spite of myself, and my gorgeously outrageous friend Sue threatens to come round and administer a 'swift kick in the clunge' whenever she feels I'm getting a bit too hand-wringy. As with boggarts, there's nothing BPD hates more than laughter.

9. Believe in our friendship.

People with BPD generally struggle to build and maintain close relationships. I'm OK with friends who've known me for ever, but my more recent friendships bring huge challenges to both parties. I believe I'm not good enough, that this person can't really want to be my friend, that they're just being kind and will soon get fed up and ghost me ... and they have to put up with all that shit. Asking me to believe in either one of us, therefore, is a stretch; but imploring me to believe in the friendship itself, which one friend did recently - well, that forced me to turn and look back over a year of walks, talks, hugs, belly laughs, exchanged confidences, support given on both sides, and the most fun I'd known in a long time. I realised I couldn't really argue with that.

10. I need ...

As you will have gathered by now, BPD is entirely self-absorbed, and consequently the unfortunate souls it inhabits are at high risk of the same. (Case in point: here I am, telling you what I would like you to say and not to say. Damn cheek!) We may often forget that your wiring, your needs and your wishes are just as valid and important as our own. So when we do forget, please remind us. Contrary to appearances, we are eager to please - often a little too eager. We just forget sometimes that it's not all about us (because, of course, it is).