One of the lovely symptoms of Borderline Personality Disorder is anger. I’d say of all my BPD symptoms, this is the one I have the hardest time managing. I get ridiculously angry for ridiculously stupid reasons. Women; think of it as having PMS, ALL the time. Men; imagine your favorite sports team losing, ALL the time.
The smallest things set me off. I won’t know when, I won’t know how. At least with PMS you can see it coming a month away. “Okay, about twenty days from now I’m gonna be an angry bitch, so honey I apologize in advance.” No, I don’t think so.
It seems to happen a few days at a time. I’ll be fine for several days, then for several days I’ll just be a fuse waiting to get lit. Today, my husband had a cough. When he coughed, I had to resist the urge to throw things at him. Every. Single. Time. Some things just grate on me on days like today. I have an unusually low tolerance for other people’s grievances and illnesses, so that doesn’t help on days like today, when coughing sends me into a bad place. I’ve read that this is a common BPD trait, and all along I Just thought it was something in me that I picked up from having a hypochondriac father.
Today it came on a little slow. I was a little irritated to start off with. We had some friends over to play games, and we played a game I hate. They didn’t ask if we all wanted to play, they just said ‘this is what we’re playing, you’re either in or you’re out.’ So I played an irritating game where you’re a politician in the 1850s, you’re trying to gain favor of a bunch of Italian, German, English and Irish immigrants in various districts to win elections. Maybe I was just being a stick in the mud. I mean, who doesn’t want to be a nineteenth century politician and do all kinds of corrupt things to earn immigrant favor?
Anywho, I was a little irritated but nothing unmanageable. As the day wore on more and more things upset me. I kept it all in check, we had guests over and my son was home. By the time our guests left I just wanted to crawl in a hole and scream at the top of my lungs until I felt better. Then the coughing started. Every. Single. Time. He coughed and I’d have to close my eyes, take a deep breath, and keep my mouth shut.
I get mean when I’m angry. I yell, I say things that shouldn’t be said, I hurt people. When I say people I mean my husband. For the last few years he’s been the only one who sees this side of me. I used to blow up at friends and family. It cost a lot of friendships, so I changed my tactics. Avoid conflicts, keep things to myself, don’t even talk when I’m angry. But not with my husband. I can’t help it, I’m home 24/7 and he lives here too soo….. yea. I say things that I shouldn’t say, at least not in anger. He gets hurt, I feel terrible when I’ve cooled down. It’s just bad.
I should look into anger management classes. But I’m not sure, would that help? Or does anger accompanied with BPD need to be treated differently? Lately I’ve just been trying harder to keep it under raps. Close eyes, deep breath, don’t speak. If I speak when I’m angry the bad stuff happens. After my son was born and the post postpartum depression hit I would scream a lot, and I don’t want to do it in front of my son.
I feel like it needs to get out. It’s festering in me, this anger. I don’t know what to do with it. Sometimes it gets so infected that I expel it through banging my head on the wall, or counter. I almost knocked myself out a few weeks ago, hitting my head on the counter. I hate to think how that COULD have turned out, my son and I were alone at the time. What if I’d have hurt myself terribly, and passed out. He’d be alone and scared for who knows how long. I don’t want that. It scares me to think it could happen. So I need an outlet. Hurting myself isn’t acceptable.
Most of the time, breathing works. Sometimes, not so much.
I feel guilty, and horrible. I feel like a horrible human being. When my son gets on my nerves. It’s not his fault. He’s just being a kid, and most of the time being adorable at it to boot. But if I’m in the right mood, no matter how cute he is, something will send me off. I don’t want him seeing that side of me. I don’t want to neglect him. I hate shutting the door and separating us because I’m worried I’ll yell at him or worse. I don’t want him to see me that way.
Go into the bathroom with the child safety knob so he can’t follow. Shut eyes. Deep breaths. Think.
That’s not a childhood any kid should have. Angry mom, locking herself up in the bathroom. Heaven help him if he ever sees me hurt myself. This is not acceptable behavior. All I can do is try harder.
I’m on an antidepressant. It’s not great, and doesn’t help with the anger. I was on Citalopram for years and the problem with that was that it took everything away from me. Sure I wasn’t depressed anymore, but I wasn’t anything else either. I wasn’t happy, content, sad. My cat could have died and I wouldn’t have cared. Everything was the same shade of gray. So I switched so I could feel something again. Unfortunately, I still get a lot of the bad too. One worked too well, one doesn’t work well enough.
I need to see a real doctor, get a real medication for a real problem. This was just for the postpartum depression and honestly my obgyn doesn’t really know anything about these meds. But guess what, no insurance. No doctors for me, no good medication.
So I just have to breathe.