I’m sure that you are familiar with the diagnosis of borderline personality disorder (BPD). It has a negative stigma attached to its name and it is often falsely perceived as a diagnosis for crazy people. It is associated with violence and rage, with uncontrollable emotions and an inability to control oneself. I am writing to tell you that this is not true. Borderline personality disorder is not something that someone chooses to suffer from. Its roots are still being studied, but it is linked to trauma such as abuse or not being taught how to properly handle stressors. The fact that this disease often begins in childhood, between birth and age five, further proves that this diagnosis is not one that anyone chooses.

Due to the negative stigma attached, BPD is often discussed less than other mental illnesses. It is not fair for those who suffer from BPD to be labelled as crazy or dangerous. That is why I am worried to tell you that I suffer from BPD. I speak from the perspective of a sufferer when I say that it is never how I want to act. BPD causes me to act impulsively and have mood swings, but I am more than that. Had I never written this article, you would not know that I struggle with this. You may not have judged me like you could be doing now.

It is hard to remember that it is not your fault. I often feel guilty, like a bad person. I am aware that I can unintentionally hurt those around me. I am aware that it often looks like I am seeking attention or actively trying to be dramatic. This is a label, a diagnosis, but this is not me. Being diagnosed as BPD allows me to get the proper type of treatment for a condition that I had a genetic predisposition to. I still despise conflict. I am still kind-hearted. I still care deeply and want to help others know that they are not alone. Mental illness is scary. But it does not change who I am.

If you look at me judgmentally, you may think I am weird. That’s fine. I am learning to accept myself for who I am, surrounding myself with people who truly care about the real me. If you are my friend, you should not care that I have BPD. You should be supportive of me, despite my wariness to trust or becoming overly attached. You should accept me, even with my mood swings and panic attacks. I understand if this creeps you out. But for those who have stuck by me, thank you. For those who are silently suffering too, I am here for you. Please know that my heart is with you.

Treatment sucks. There are limited options and no medications have been approved by the FDA. It is essential, however, to take the small steps to recovery. It is not easy to be told that your entire personality, your way of thinking and seeing the world, is abnormal. I was terrified, especially with University Counseling Center cutting back its long-term services. Although I understand the need for a greater turnaround of students, I am enraged by the lack of treatment options. In order to continue in my recovery, I will need to seek out off-campus services. This adds more stress to my plate. Society threatens to label anyone with BPD, or any mental illness, as crazy. I am reassuring you that you are not insane. You are loved.