Journey Back To Me: Learning to live with Borderline Personality Disorder

Dear Journal

Chapter 1 Dear Journal

October

Dearest of Rainy Days,

You think you know, but you do not. I think I hide my mental illness well but sometimes I just can't. People do not really know me...because I do not even know myself. I am an actor, not a very good one but an actor, nonetheless. I play all these parts, wear all these colorful masks and hats, that people see on the outside and think "Oh she's cool, or super funny", but really I'm full of homicidal rage and anger that I don't know how to control. Depression takes over and runs my life to the ground. They do not realize that I am a medicated freak who needs help functioning because I put this facade on every day to make it look like I am normal. Inside I am screaming for someone to notice that I am not okay. No one cares enough to notice I am dying inside.

I feel like I am fake most of the time. I hate fake people too, most of all I hate myself for feeling this way. I am such a hypocrite and that is soul crushing. You know what kills me, is that I have to be "Fake Jessica." It pisses me off that I have to be "HAPPY! Jessica" when I go to work or school or in public. It is as if I want to say "WHY CAN'T I BE ME?" However, I am not sure who ME is. This is the worst part of being mentally ill is not knowing who you are inside. This "Fake Jessica" feeling is a vicious cycle of playing all these characters that it is not fun anymore.

It is funny because I feel like I am boring because I don't know what I like. I feel like I have no sense of self, space, or reality. There are days I need to be real, where I do not have to be happy bubbly Jessica. I can be depressed, moody, and cloudy. I do not have to be all sunshine and rainbows. This back and forth trying to decide who I am makes my life difficult. Then on the other hand, I do wish I were more sociable, outgoing, but anxiety is a silent killer of these dreams I have. It hinders my reality of achieving them. I always wonder what life would be like: maybe more fulfilling, maybe more exciting, more enjoyable, more engaging.

Talk Soon,

Ringmaster

Of course, he is looking fabulous in his red tailcoat, cinched for the gods with a gold belt, legs for days in those leather pants, flawlessly painted mug, and slaying those thigh latex boots. He is physically ready for the show, but that depression is hitting him hard, and he is struggling.

March

Dear Sky: How do I look from down here?

Question of the day: How do I become a functional adult? I am disappointed because I have no money, ever. I feel sad all the time that I keep my bank accounts current with just pennies. I keep getting myself stuck in these black-hole-type situations, the ones where I am struggling to pay bills on time because I cannot make ends meet. I continue spinning in circles, and feel like I am never getting out of this position. I feel like I am always at rock bottom and that I will ever get ahead of the game. I am drowning in debt and it makes me anxious and depressed. I have been an "adult" for several years now and I still have not figured a way to deal or cope with real life problems. I cannot seem to manage taking responsibility for my own problems. I need to learn to grow up and figure it out soon or I am going to be stuck here for a very long time. It is not fun living at rock bottom.

Until Next Time,

Ringmaster

Multiple crewmembers, tonight's performers, jugglers, stagehands, prop master, the costume director are all running about, while he flips through his journal to read a previous entry. He reflects on the past to help him move toward a better future. Drowning out the noise of the performers' chatter, sitting at his personal cornered desk, he mediates to center himself. Everyone knows not to bother him before the show.