One of the most painful things about having BPD is the chronic, insatiable and infinite loneliness so many of us experience. Some days I feel so lonely that it physically aches, and I can feel claws of emotion inside of me causing me excruciating pain. The visceral sensations that materialise take over my entire body.
These are sensations one cannot put into words; I sometimes refer to it as “Borderline” pain, because it is so typical an experience for those with BPD. I have tried explaining it to others but they have found it hard to understand. Loneliness is one thing; Borderline loneliness is another.
I suppose it is a mixture of yearning and grief, sadness and shame, all rolled in to one. The grief aspect feels pertinent to me, but how can I explain that? I can’t. I haven’t even lost anything. I just never had it to begin with. I fear I will never feel like a whole person, and that it is too late to repair me now – the damage has been done. I am broken.
I feel like a lost puppy separated from its litter or a desperate child searching for her mother amongst a terrifying crowd. I feel like an empty floating lifeless vessel, or a newly born vampire – insatiably thirsty, panting and pacing in anticipation of her first meal. I feel like if I ever were to unleash the full strength of my neediness the world would not be able to support me. I am too much. The loneliness is too big. I am drowning in it.