Black boulders, to me, I liken my Borderline Personality Disorder. First they attach themselves to you as tiny pebbles; you notice that things you previously enjoyed are being rubbished a little by tiny weights dragging you down. This can happen slowly and then over days, more and more pebbles attach to form boulders. The boulders mean that getting out of bed hurts, lifting your arm to brush your hair is exhausting, thinking rationally and logically seems impossible, chewing and swallowing the simplest of foods is a nightmare, leaving the house is daunting… I could go on. But sometimes it doesn’t happen slowly, one minute you are fine – and then within an hour you are squished by the boulders.
I used to be so sporty growing up, I was such a hyperactive child that I was thrown in the garden at 7am and brought in again at 7pm and I loved it. I ran cross country as a teen captained the Rounders team and loved athletics, dance and tennis. I was a “ray of sunshine” according to my family and outings, holidays, horse riding and life excited me!
Now some days I can’t even have a bath without crying. The boulders make everything so painful and make me feel so exhausted. You cry that you can still see the beauty in the sun through the trees or my nephews laugh but you can’t feel it, you feel immense sadness or the worst thing, nothing. Sometimes it is nothing coupled with such fatigue that all you want to do is sleep and anything that comes between you and bed is the devil.
The boulders are canny though, they make you feel some things intensely, I remember once hearing someone put something in the dishwasher and the slight clink as glasses touched sent me into a hysterical screaming mess or when someone makes the most insignificant comment and it cuts you like a knife, a look, a stare all impossible to decode. That song, that film that you feel on a level no-one else does- pain that burns like acid.
Of course, all through this exhaustive, painful squishing from the black boulders, life is going on around you. Work still expect you to perform, family still want you to be cheerful and positive, the car still needs petrol the dog still needs walking and all you want to do is sleep, your effort goes into putting one foot in front of the other and you feel like you are in your own London Marathon. Sometimes I have given up, I have stayed in bed and left the world to spin, I feel relief when it goes this way as it is often the time you have no energy to do anything, anything, even something stupid. Sometimes you keep on pushing though and you don’t stop and then sometimes you sit there in the bath, your painful bones scrapping the ceramic tub and you get into the what’s the point questions, an animal in this much pain would be put down.
The worst part though… these boulders are invisible! No-one can see them and worse still when put into words or even a diagnosis not everyone can understand. It is only through talking though, that I have told a few select people about the boulders and I am lucky that these people will listen and try to understand. This wasn’t always the case, it took me many years to be honest, even to those I hold closest – and even now I do feel embarrassed discussing it. There are also many people in my life that I would never dream of disclosing my conditions too. I know this is very hypercritical given that I am writing this to try and help end the stigma surrounding mental health. Even as I type I don’t fully understand why? I hurt my back a few months ago and when I winced in pain people asked if I was alright and I felt no shame in telling them I had lifted something too heavy at the weekend. When a colleague returned to work after suffering from appendicitis, people stopped to ask if they needed anything. A friend I know returned to work after suffering from a particularly bad depressive episode and people kept their heads down and walked the other way.
I know when asked why I choose to work part-time, I never quote the truth, the boulders. I make up some excuse about wanting to become a writer. Why are we so ashamed, so confused, so scared when it’s the mind that’s injured or unwell. My back failed to work properly for a few weeks and that’s socially acceptable but when my mind suffers pain or my whole body aches for no obvious reason (as a day in the life of Fibromyalgia so often it does) then we must hide it, bury it, try so desperately hard to appear “normal” and socially correct.
I read a quote that said “I never knew pain until BPD knocked me down, I never knew strength until I got back up.” Ironically, once the simplest of tasks become marathons, when they are not, you really appreciate them and do them more mindfully and slowly, thus helping you on the road to happiness.
Days when I am not in pain I brush my hair extra slowly and really enjoy it, when I can enjoy food I savour the flavour, when I walk in the woods and feel the sun on my face I can really feel it, when I cry over films and songs because I feel the pain so intensely, I can really feel, when I love and can be loved I really love.
Sometimes I am grateful for having BPD because it has made me stop, slow down and really feel life. I don’t want to sit around talking about it all day everyday, I only get one life and I will not let BPD rob me of it, if life gives you black boulders, make a rockery! My life is for living, my only wish and hope for the future is that one day mental health can be as openly talked about, accepted and supported so that when (not if) someone asks “are you alright” you don’t always have to smile and say “I am fine”, as you force an arm from under the boulder to wave…
Help information
If you need help please talk to friends, family, a GP, therapist or one of the free confidential helpline services. For a full list of national mental health services see yourmentalhealth.ie.
- Samaritans on their free confidential 24/7 helpline on 116-123, by emailing jo@samaritans.ie
- Pieta House National Suicide Helpline 1800 247 247 or email mary@pieta.ie – (suicide prevention, self-harm, bereavement) or text HELP to 51444 (standard message rates apply)
- Aware 1800 80 48 48 (depression, anxiety)
If living in Ireland you can find accredited therapists in your area here: