The girl with the bracelets on her wrist

Where to start telling this story, my story. How to teach you that I had everything and I lost it without knowing how. How to make you understand that what happened is not my fault, that it has been a matter of all or nothing, of wanting to be loved and avoid the emptiness I feel every day. Because yes, she had it all, but something called Borderline Personality Disorder has made her lose it little by little and become the girl with the bracelets on her wrist.

Maybe you won’t be able to understand me, most people don’t. It is very difficult to put yourself in someone else’s shoes when the other person does not behave, feel or think like most people. But I’m going to tell you a secret, even if we don’t think or act like you, it doesn’t mean we don’t have feelings.

Now I ask you to read, listen to me and try to put yourself in my place. I want to tell you my story even if I don’t know when it started or when it ended. I want you to know what it feels like when you have a mental illness and no one understands you.thus obtaining in return everything you tried to avoid: loneliness and rejection.

The story of the girl with the bracelets on her wrist

As I said, I don’t know exactly when it all started, although I think it could have been with the change of city when starting university. She had never been alone in a new place, she had always lived in the same place with the same people. This caused me great anxiety, because The idea of ​​not fitting in, of being alone, terrified me more and more.

That’s why, from the beginning, I decided to be the cool one in the university group. This meant being thin and always perfect, or so I thought. I started vomiting when I thought I was eating too much. I even skipped meals or tried not to eat in front of people. Furthermore, I drank too much, until I lost control, because I thought that this way they would accept me better and I would get rid of my shyness.

And then he appeared. The boy with the perfect smile. The guy of my dreams. And the goal of my entire existence was based on him loving me the way I wanted him. It didn’t matter that I already had a partner, it didn’t matter that he wasn’t interested in me. I loved him and I would do anything for him to love me too. I thought, well I didn’t think, I was convinced that no one, ever, could give him what I would give him.

I found out where he lived and started leaving love letters in his mailbox. I put together movies in my head in which we were both the protagonists of a beautiful love story, which with the passage of time I ended up believing were reality. I tried to convince the rest of the world that his girlfriend was the bad one so they could break up once and for all. I became so obsessed that he was my world, but a world that did not exist and that made the emptiness grow inside me.

The bracelets that cover my shame

I lost control even of my feelings. Everything became black or white, loving me or hating me, those “either you are with me or you are against me.” Because I was the owner of the extremes of reality and I refused to see the intermediate points. I became a hurricane of feelings, I only loved with the greatest intensity or hated with all my strength. But within that hurricane was the eye of the storm, an eye that showed the emptiness that was growing bigger and bigger inside me.

That emptiness that was becoming stronger and stronger disguised my reality in such a way that all emotion was outward, but I felt nothing. So, seeking to leave that emptiness behind, seeking to feel, I began to cut my wrists. And it was at that moment that I became the girl with the bracelets on my wrist, because those bracelets were the only ones that covered what I didn’t want to show.

But bracelets don’t cure everything, they only hide what I don’t want to show. They hide the part of me that I don’t control. That part where I am the laughing stock of those who know me because for them I am the crazy exaggerated one. And I… I… I just want to fit in and feel something good, that’s why I decided to ask for help.

I know it’s going to be a long, very long road, but now there is hope. Thanks to the treatment I continue with my clinical psychologist and some medication prescribed by a psychiatrist, I am becoming a little more myself, my previous self. I have been brave and I have sought help, that is why I tell my story. If you feel the same or know someone like me, don’t just laugh; Behind what you see there is a human being who feels lost and who, like me, may also hide under the bracelets what causes him pain and, at the same time, shame.

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