Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Ah Borderline… Act II & III

ACT II: at home later Friday night

I got an email from Colleen. It was sent to me and Gwen, the other woman who had stayed after group to talk to her. It sounded bad:

“I can't remember being more depressed…. Why should I come to the "next" meeting, prepared to… do what? Ask someone why they don't like me? Why should I come back, and ask that person's permission to exist? What's wrong with me? What did I do wrong? I am leaving the world. I can't bear it anymore… LEAVE ME. As I leave others.”

I called Gwen. She agreed to call Colleen. They talked for a while and then Gwen called me back. It was now 11pm.

“Colleen says that she doesn’t want to die but she still doesn’t want to live. I don’t know what to do. Do you think I should call her doctor?” Yes, I told her. If she were to hurt herself and we hadn’t called him, we’d never be able to live with the guilt.

Gwen called her doctor, whose voicemail message said that he was out of town. So she called the psychiatrist who was covering his practice and told him what was happening. He called the police who showed up at Colleen’s house at midnight.

Then, Colleen called Gwen and asked her why she had alerted the police. She wished she hadn’t – and said that it had only made things worse.

So Gwen called me back, wanting to know if I still thought we’d done the right thing. ABSOLUTELY, I said. I don’t fool around when suicidal people make threats. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to “turn in” a friend to an authority figure. They weren’t easy decisions, but I’ve never regretted doing it. I’ve watched too many people die.

- - - - - - - - -

ACT III: at home Sunday afternoon

I got another email from Colleen. Her mood had obviously changed:

“I'm so sorry for involving you in the Great Storm. Truth is, I was crying so hard I could barely read the screen when I wrote that message, and then just kept crying on and on after I sent it and so didn't really remember/realize how frightening what I wrote would be until the shrink-on-call gave my language back to me as a real reason to call the cops. I'm truly sorry I frightened you both, and involved you at all in this.

I wish I could have done better. I was overwhelmed, and could only feel that feeling in that moment. And part of me… well, part of me that overcame me then… was in so much pain that's all I could hear in my head and I guess I just wanted somebody to hear that, too. A form of selfishness brought on in the extremity. Please forgive me.

We all walk that ground together, and each of us knows its intensity. So you would have known the risk. But no hospital for me, I managed to talk them out of it, with the support of my husband. And now the storm deepens into the gut, as depression has its way.”

I was SO happy to read this. Not just to see that Colleen wasn’t mad at me; that our friendship was preserved. I was more impressed that she could look back at her extreme emotions and how they affected the people around her. Yes, it sucks to have this personality disorder. Yes, other people have to learn to accommodate us when we can’t control ourselves.

BUT. In my experience, it’s very, very important for a borderline to see how much their actions affect others. I watched many people walk away from me because I was too difficult, too emotional, too volatile to be around. I threatened suicide one night in their bathroom and the next day they didn’t want to be friends anymore. It hurt me, but gradually, I changed. I learned. My relationships became easier.

I want this for Colleen. I don’t want this to be the third support group she feels rejected by. I want her to have more ease and grace in her life and the people she interacts with. Yes, she’ll have to change who she is to accommodate them, but sometimes… it’s worth it.

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