The healing process isn’t like it is for Bipolar Disorder
I promised shocking news in my last article, so here it comes. Guess what?
You’re not a child anymore. You’re all grown up. Chances are that if you’re reading this, you aren’t dead. If you are dead, well, say hi to Jimi Hendrix for me. And chances are you’re not still living with Mama. You can take care of yourself. You made it. You’re healed, right?
Not quite. It takes years to undo the damage our childhoods caused us, but in order to start the process, you’ve gotta be committed. And the scariest part of all is that the healing process isn’t like it is for Bipolar Disorder. There’s no little pill you can take to make things better. In fact, if you’re like me, the pills just make things worse. The pills dull the pain. To heal from Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), you gotta feel it. It hurts to heal.
And I promise you that right now, I am hurting very, very deeply. Up until a month ago, everything was going right for me. I had just landed my first teaching job. My prizewinning screenplay had just entered into the development stage with an actual Hollywood director. Sometime within the next year, I’m gonna get a paycheck of anywhere between $50,000 and $500,000 bucks.
Now ask me if I care. Nope. Life is shit. And all because my girlfriend dumped me.
But I’m slowly coming back from it. And this time, I’m doing things differently, because this woman really was special. And she still loves me. And she’s trying to be my friend. And she’ll continue to be my friend if I can just stop freaking out. And she didn’t leave me for another man or because of anything I’d done. I was the best boyfriend she ever had. That’s what she said, and I believe her. She just can’t be in a relationship right now. She’s got her own issues to sort out.
Remember that, if nothing else. Like attracts like.
And you know what? I can’t be in a relationship, either. Not if I want to get better. It’s not like I don’t have the option to date someone. I signed up for one of those dating sites immediately after she left me, which is a big clue right there. Within a week, I had four gorgeous women wanting to meet me. I also had a friend wanting to set me up with their (also gorgeous) young friend… who’s ten years younger than me.
And check this out. I went to a topless club with a friend two weeks ago. I started talking to one of the dancers (they’re people, too, ya know) and we had a lot in common. Similar musical tastes. Both avid readers. Both physically attractive, emotionally damaged people. The big difference is that she’s twenty-three, and I’m… um… not.
Anyway, I was feeling all confident and full of myself, so I poured on the old Anderson charm. I asked for her phone number. I got it. And it WORKS.
Ready for some more shocking news? I tell ya, boys and girls, this shocks even me. But you’re gonna have to wait until next time to read it. If nothing else, maybe the sheer morbid curiosity will keep you going until next time.
It’s the littlest things that often do.
Your brother in arms,
Read more from Bruce Anderson here: How I Became the Freak in the Corner
(A page that tells his story from the beginning and have links to several of his mental health related articles)