A Journey towards Integration
Let me introduce myself: Hello! I’m Beauty Borderline.
Obviously, Beauty Borderline is a pseudonym. There are a few reasons why I don’t want anyone to know who I really am.
1. My partner, my son, and I live in my parents’ basement, and have done for the last year and a half. It is a far from ideal situation but we have no choice right now. My parents abused me when I was young, and in some respects it still goes on — mostly the subtle verbal and psychological attacks, although my mother isn’t above a little passive-aggressive physical “accident” when it suits her. To this day, my parents take no responsibility for their own actions, denying any abuse and, paradoxically, insisting that I “deserved” it. Because my parents’ abuse contributed, I believe, to my developing BPD, I want to be able to write about it here. But because we can’t afford to get kicked out onto the street, I don’t want this linked to my real identity until we are safe.
2. I have a child — a son almost two years old. After eight months in DBT Skills Training, I’m getting much better at dealing with my anger in healthy ways (non-destructive ways, at least) but I’m not perfect. I’ve yelled at my partner and my parents, but I’ve never yelled at my son. I’ve been violent towards my partner (usually when I’m in the grip of a very intense rage or urge to commit suicide) but never my child. (What is the point of getting angry and yelling at a two-year-old? There’s no way he would understand, and it would only scare him. If only my mother had understood that.) I try very hard to be a good mother, and my son is everything a parent could want — bright, happy, curious, affectionate. But I doubt Children’s Aid would understand.
3. I smoke marijuana. (Technically, I vaporize it, but that doesn’t make it less illegal.) I live in a country where a lot, A LOT, of people smoke pot. I find it extremely helpful when used in moderation, although I am trying to find other ways of dealing with my intense, rollercoaster feelings. (If I’m so upset I can’t calm down, despite using DBT skills, then what’s the better choice? Yelling and violence, or using a little pot to calm down so I can go about my day? Not the healthiest choice, I admit, but if you have a better suggestion to keep me from killing myself, I’d be glad to hear it.) But, because it IS illegal, I really don’t want to authorities to find out about it.
I hope circumstances change soon. I don’t know how to deal with my parents’ continuing abuse other than to try to avoid it as much as possible. (Radical Acceptance wasn’t meant for this shit.) Maybe, one day, I’ll feel safe enough to link this blog to my real-life profile. But not now.
*Photo by Amy-Heartbreak, deviantart.com