For the first time this year, I looked forward to May’s Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) Awareness Month. That’s because we’ve reached a crossroads that could lead to a revolution in how we conceptualize and care for BPD.
I once thought the stigma against BPD would kill me. When I fought BPD in the late 1990s and early 2000s, evidence-based treatments were just beginning to be widely disseminated. The few therapists and psychiatrists willing to work with me after hearing about my suicide attempts just doused me with medications indicated for other psychiatric conditions. I tried to kill myself eight times and turned to drugs to cope with surviving.
BPD afflicts 1.6% of the population, and common symptoms include unstable relationships, recurrent suicide attempts, and erratic moods. During my worst periods with the disorder, I whipsawed between euphoria and desolation. A therapist friend of mine described us as spinning tops that can be knocked over by a flower.