A little story. I am product of a teen pregnancy. Mom was still in high school and dad had graduated a year or two prior. They married and mom graduated in hope they’d be able to raise me in a family.

They divorced before I was 1.

So, I was raised by my grandmother. Mom moved far north. Dad worked the tugboats and was much more of a party animal than a parent. And there were still two teen aunties living at home.

Basically, I had legos, broken VCRs, an old record player, and a Nintendo to take care of me while I was growing up.

But, that was that. I grew up healthy, left high school early, and wound up very successful in the manufacturing industry. A certain someone felt a lot of pity for the loner who had a PB&J with Mug rootbeer every day and started bringing food. So, I latch on and get married….. WAY too young as I’ve now recently sorted out.

Long story short, I reached 2009 with no social life, a dysfunctional marriage, and a dependency on electronics, anime, games, and gadgets to be my soothing ‘friends’. It was fine. I knew no better.

Eventually I join SL and make friends. Tumultuous friendships with lots of drama, pushing, breaking, re-joining, and so on. I looked at my friendships and didn’t know why I was having such a tough time getting along. I looked at my marriage and didn’t know why I never actually felt connected with this person.

Then I ask a co-worker for information about what would happen with my paycheck, credit bills, and other finances if I were to kill myself.

That blew over like a fart in church.

So I was on disability for a while and continue drugs and therapy with a recent conclusion that I have Borderline Personality Disorder.  My past and present read almost like official documentation on the subject.  I won’t go into detail and only suggest reading the Wikipedia page on the condition.

Do I blame anyone? No. Though, I have the constant urge to blame myself.  Am I getting better?  Maybe.  I’m afraid only my friends can tell.  And, those who are my friends now are genuinely true.  I have dragged them through hell and back and they’re still right here. They’ve been helping me find me all along.

Thank you.

SRS Immy is SRS today…

I posed a question on Plurk and Twitter the other day.

http://www.plurk.com/p/euqijj

What would you do if today felt like the last day you would see the people you like the most?

The responses came.

I’d probably tell them, then try to have a “normal” day with them.

I don’t like being near people I like, I start having panic attacks; 2) shrink them put them in a box, carry around in pocket

I would see my family, then see you and then see a special friend in Holland

make sure they all knew how much they mean, and how treasured I hold them, and then I’d paint them tiedyed

And now, with those responses in mind; what would you do if every day felt like that?

Really, say you have this impossible-to-ignore feeling that this is “it”, everything is over, and there will be nothing the next time you so much as blink.

Given the responses above, it sounds like that would be pretty rough.  Just imagine it.  Imagine having a constant urge to see people, remind them of your connection, hope they reciprocate, and this pretty much goes on all day, every day.

Believe it or not, that’s how I feel.

I have recently been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder.  I’m sure I’ve been under this condition for years.

I have been reading and watching, listening and talking, and really trying to work out this “thing” I have.  I have also been trying to debunk it.  Both in general controversy and in my own point of view.  I’m gradually learning that I can’t keep such a venture up.  The facts are in place, the patterns are there, and those who know me closely share the opinion.

So… Borderline.  Borderline between what and what, I don’t know.  I have seen long lists of what it’s not.  So, I can only rehash what I’ve read before or describe my own experience.  My experience is that which I asked this week.

EVERY day feels like the last day I’ll see the people I like the most.

I’m getting treatment.  I can’t say I have much of a sense of direction.  I try to do as I’m told and still tend to land back in my reflexive rut of fearing that hope is lost and I won’t see anyone.  Like they’ll leave me tonight because of the way I behaved today.  Like they’re off doing their own thing in order to avoid dealing with me.

So, I’m at war with these feelings.  I’m always working against them.  Sadly, it means compartmentalizing my friends, clinging to the close ones while being terrified of meeting new people.  Terrified because new friends mean divided time.  Divided time means being away from my current friends.  Being away leads to drifting apart.  Drifting apart leads to losing them.  I’d be losing my friends. I don’t want to lose my friends.  It would hurt too much.  I’ll miss them greatly.  I miss them right now.

But… They’re still here.

I can easily say it.  But, I can’t seem to convince myself of it.  What comes is constant frantic efforts to keep people near.  But not so near that I annoy or scare them.  But no so far that I can’t reach to cling.

It’s not easy.

But, it’s me.

I’m working on it.

I have no clue what I’m doing.

But, I can’t stay like this.