I was talking with a friend this past week about the recent outpouring of social awareness for mental health issues. The conversation brought light to the fact that although the movement is certainly progressive, it is not benefiting those with mental illness nearly as much as it eludes to. It has made room on social media and online forums for emotionally-charged articles about how to love someone with depression or what living with anxiety is like, and that’s great -- truly. They are glimpses into the day-to-day lives of those suffering with issues that are all too commonly swept under the rug.

I’ve found, however, that these articles have been almost exclusively confined to issues surrounding anxiety and depression – and this isn’t without reason. Despite the fact that their over-representation stems from how appallingly often they occur, they are also the most talked about because they are the most accepted. We convince ourselves that it’s easy to empathize with someone who suffers from depression or anxiety because we’ve all experienced anxiety-inducing moments and bouts of sadness. Somehow, we believe that those paper-thin slices of experience are relatable to the big cheese that is mental illness.

To be able to relate to lesser known illnesses, though, becomes more difficult. This narrow lens creates a hierarchical chain. Quickly, society’s understanding of mental illness transforms into a list of which ones are socially acceptable and which aren’t. Not only is this isolating to individuals who are looked at as social pariahs, it is deeply hurtful on a personal level when you’re viewed as less because of something you didn’t ask for. It creates an overbearing feeling that silence is necessary; you stifle the outcries of your own suffering because your illness isn’t ‘mainstream’ enough. It’s not accepted and neither are you. The fear of condemnation is enough for you to remain quiet while you wait for someone to say, “I’ll listen.” I know from personal experience.

I have borderline personality disorder. Along with that diagnosis came some lovely contributing illnesses: depression, generalized and social anxiety, and obsessive-compulsive disorder. A cocktail of co-morbidity, if you will. It’s been a bumpy ride to say the least, and I admit to being quiet for most of it. Look up borderline personality disorder and tell me if you wouldn’t do the same. At almost every corner of the internet, you’ll find an exasperated parent or a traumatized ex-lover condemning the souls of those with BPD. We’ve been described as manipulative, empty pits, void of any emotion or personality that is our own. There are even instances where therapists have refused to work with borderlines. The stigma that we are ‘unfixable' has been perpetuated to the point that it isolates us from our rehabilitators.

What society is unaware of is that my illness, like anything else, falls on a spectrum of varying symptoms and degrees of severity. No two cases are the same. We are not some unlovable, emotionless monsters who thrive off of draining the sanity out of anyone we come close to – and frankly, it’s disheartening to hear anyone who’s suffering described that way. We are people who are sensitive to outside opinions and judgments just like anyone else – even more so than anyone else, actually.

In order to drive this point home, I present to you the 9 qualifying criteria for borderline personality disorder, first told by the DSM-IV, then by me:

(1) "Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment. Note: Do not include suicidal or self-mutilating behavior covered in Criterion 5."

This means that I can ask my boyfriend over ten times a day if he wants to leave me, and I have. It means that regardless of his answer, I’m going to believe that he does. It means that I can have one unanswered text from my best friend and work myself into a panic attack, thinking she’s cut all ties to our friendship. The pain is real and it is constant and it is paralyzing.

(2) "A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation."

This is what borderlines call ‘splitting’, or black and white thinking. It happens often and it happens intensely. My boyfriend needs a weekend to himself? I tell him he’s always breaking plans and leaving me emotionally unsatisfied. A coworker is in a bad mood? Suddenly I think they’re always angry with me and decide not to talk to them again. It is a constant whirlpool of feeling extreme love and then extreme hate at the drop of a dime, and I have ruined many relationships over it.

(3) "Identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self image or sense of self."

One day I want to be a fitness instructor. The next week I change my major to Business Administration. After a semester of classes, I’m seriously considering dropping out all together because the path I’m on is not the path I want anymore. There is never a sense of self. I am nothing and everything all at once. (Disclaimer: the events I just described were real. This is not an example of what could happen with BPD, it is a story of what has happened.)

(4) "Impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating). Note: Do not include suicidal or self-mutilating behavior covered in Criterion 5."

This means I have a longstanding history of addiction; last time I relapsed I spent $600 in three days. It means I monitor every single bite of food I have because if not, I’m either starving myself or eating the entire refrigerator. It means that there is never a healthy balance for me; my life is based around indulgence and it threatens to destroy any peace I may obtain.

(5) "Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior."

I’m lucky enough not to suffer from this symptom, and for that I am thankful every day.

(6) "Affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (e.g., intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days)."

One time I cried uncontrollably for an hour because I told my boyfriend I was unable to do a favor he asked of me; an hour later I was up the walls with energy. My moods are volatile, constantly changing, and excruciating to experience. Bless my boyfriend for having patience.

(7) "Chronic feelings of emptiness."

This means that I could feel every emotion under the sun and at the same time have a void that is simple not able to be filled. There is a constant nagging in the pit of my stomach that tells me something’s missing. It has left me confined to my bed for days, trying to figure out how to just. get. up.

(8) "Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights)."

Another criteria that I don’t seem to fit, as I’m what they call a ‘quiet’ borderline.

(9) "Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptom."

To get an idea of how bad my paranoia/dissociation can get: I have left class before to change clothes because some kid was laughing with his buddy and I thought he was making fun of my outfit. When my anxiety gets too high from these situations, I dissociate. My brain leaves my body and suddenly I am watching myself from the outside. During times like this, my reflection in the mirror is unrecognizable. It’s terrifying.

I realize explaining this to you makes me vulnerable to criticism. I realize how it makes me look. I also realize that if someone doesn’t explain the amount of turmoil borderlines suffer through on a daily basis, we may never be humanized. The pain is real. The effects are real. 70% of people with borderline personality disorder attempt suicide; 10% succeed.

This is why I speak up.

To anyone suffering, I have provided the links to the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline and Website below:

1 (800) 273-8255 www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org

You are worth the help you need. Don't become another statistic.