Mental Health & Borderline Personality Disorder: Sammi's Story

Below is a story shared by a dear friend of ours, Sammi, talking about her own struggles with mental health and a diagnosis that changed her life in ways she couldn't predict.

 

My beautiful friends Jo and Britany have asked me to share my story and I am extremely honored to use their platform and community to spread awareness and hopefully inspire a feeling of hope to those who are struggling. In order for readers to fully understand my story, I feel it's necessary for me to start from the beginning, when I started to notice that things might not be "okay" in my brain. 

I would like to preface this by saying there is a history of mental illness in my family and I don't believe this is anyone's fault that I am the way I am. I am not a medical expert and I will try my best to not offer any advice, just provide you with my story and what I have done to help myself and invite others to explore their options and speak with medical professionals and/or licensed psychologists, therapists or counsellors. 

In 1993 I was born in Vancouver, BC to the most loving and hard working parents. I obviously don't remember the early years of my life but I do know I was loved and given all basic human needs. I moved to Winnipeg, MB at the age of 3 and lived right across the street from my very best friend in the world who I am lucky enough to still be friends with today. Life was good. Fast forward to 1998 when my family moved to Edmonton, AB after my Dad lost his job. My mom was born and raised in Edmonton and she was hoping to be closer to her family and since my dad lost his job, it was an easy decision for them. The first moment I truly experienced and remember true sorrow was when I was walking home from school with my best friend and her twin brother and saw a "For Sale" sign on my front lawn. I was only 5 years old but I knew this was going to change my life. I sobbed and sobbed to my parents who assured me we would have a better life and I would make new friends. When you're 5 years old, your world is so small - my whole life was my best friend and my elementary school.... I still remember my last day of grade 2 at Voyageur Elementary School in Winnipeg. My classmates all wrote me goodbye letters, which I'm sure my mom has stashed away in a safe place for me to read one day. 

After a long drive and a few months living with family in Saskatchewan while my parents looked for a new home and school for my little brother and I, we finally settled on the north side of Edmonton in a home that was much smaller than the one we lived in Winnipeg. I remember my first day of Grade 2 at my new school, I was scared shitless to say the least. Going from friendly Manitoba where I didn't even know what it meant to be picked on or bullied, I was standing at the front of the classroom while my teacher introduced me to the class. That was the first moment I felt shy and anxious. Walking into a room of people that you don't know is hard enough as an adult, let alone for a 5 year old. 

The bullying didn't start right away, thank god! I'm actually so blessed that I met my best friends to this day, Taylor and Tasha (God, I love you guys endlessly) who were the only 2 people to show up at my birthday party.... to be expected though since I had just started school a month prior to my birthday. The earliest memory of being bullied started in Grade 5 when I was in a split class with Grade 6 students.... granted I probably deserved some of the comments directed at me because I was and still am a huge weirdo but some things that were said to me were just cruel. At 10 years old, I had boys commenting on the fact I didn't have boobs yet.... like WTF? Whenever I would share my concerns with my teacher she would always chalk it up to "boys being boys" and "if he's mean to you it means he likes you". DAMN all the boys in my 5/6 split class must've loved me then.... JK. Next, the isolation happened. A girl WHO WILL REMAIN UNNAMED BUT I STILL HOLD A MASSIVE GRUDGE TOWARDS HER TO THIS DAY (sorta jk) tried to convince all of my friends to delete me off MSN Messenger and tried to spread rumors' about me. This may seem like petty kid drama but the fact I still remember it to this day shows how much these behaviors affected me and shaped who I am today. After how I was treated, my outlook on life was forever shifted, I remember feeling so depressed that I would do anything to take the pain away, including suicide. At the age of 10, I didn't quite understand the concept of death so obviously any attempts were not successful. I'm pretty sure I just tried to overdose on Flintstone vitamins but ultimately I chose to block out that moment in my life. 

Many people are able to brush these things off, but given what I know now about myself, the way I was treated at a young age directly impacted my ability to cope with normal, everyday stresses. Life went on and the bullying stopped as I grew out of the awkward kid stage but the depression and anxiety never went away. I didn't know at the time that these were mental illnesses that I was struggling with but the way I was treated caused me to have a cynical view on the world and I always struggled to look at the brighter side of things. In junior high and high school I found myself constantly fighting with my friends and family due to my negative attitude and poor outlook on life. It didn't take much to set me off and my parents used to joke they could see my eyes turn red and my head spin... some people even called me a vicious chihuahua because of how small I was (and still am). I was all bark and no bite.... just a very angry preteen/teenager with no concept of self responsibility: it was always someone else's fault. Luckily I was raised by 2 upstanding individuals who knew I just had inner demons to work through, they never gave up on me and always reiterated to me that I should be kind. 

I hated not being able to take control of my emotions and it took a really uncomfortable and violating experience for me to finally want to reach out for help. One of my friends (who I was repeatedly mean to and constantly short with, sorry Annie) referred me to her therapist who I didn't realize would be a huge part of my life and one of my favorite people of all time. 

For those still reading, no this wasn't the end of my story not even close. I saw my therapist until I used up all of my benefits and then began seeing a free counsellor at MacEwan University. She was okay but I don't really remember much from this experience. 

In my last year of university, I discovered study drugs. Full disclosure, I didn't even study. The first time I took Adderall I felt like I took a limitless pill. It felt like my brain was moving a mile a minute and that my depression was cured. I continued to abuse this prescription drug (among others) for 2 years. I moved to Calgary shortly after University to work in my field and I was one of my only friends to get a job offer right away. I've always distracted myself with work and by the time I graduated I already had countless years of experience in my field and a resume that proved I had a strong work ethic. My hard work was finally paying off, so why was I still so depressed and coping with prescription drugs and alcohol? My eating disorder was also spiraling out of control as I discovered one of the side effects of Adderall was loss of appetite. I convinced myself this was actually healthy, I was losing weight, I looked fit, and was consuming more water than ever before since I used water to curb the odd hunger pains.

After 10 months of trying to make it work on my own in Calgary, I moved back to Edmonton to pursue a job with a different company, which I am extremely proud to still be working for today. But during this time my parents gave me no choice, my behaviors and dark thoughts were breaking their hearts and I knew more than ever I needed my families support. 

Before moving back to Edmonton, my family doctor referred me to a psychiatrist after she tried to get me off prescription drugs that weren't prescribed to me by prescribing me an anti depressant. Talking about prescription drugs is a touchy and controversial subject and you should always do your own research and seek out medical advice from professionals only. Ultimately whatever choice you make, make sure you feel confident in your decision. To no fault of my doctor, she started me on Wellbutrin, I actually think I requested this medication since one of the side effects was weight loss and I was still struggling with disordered eating. Wellbutrin definitely helped curb my appetite but it made my invasive and dark thoughts more frequent and way more intrusive. After a week of having an anxiety attack over almost everything, my dad demanded my doctor try me on another medication. Because of the seriousness of my mental state, she referred me to a psychiatrist who surprisingly got me in right away due to my fragile state.

This psychiatrist appointment forever changed my life and this is when I started to take responsibility for my actions. After asking me several diagnostic questions, he asked me if I had ever heard of Borderline Personality Disorder. I said that I had heard the term but never really understood what that meant. I immediately thought it was similar to multiple personality disorder or schizophrenia and started to feel overwhelmed. He assured me that although there is no "cure" for BPD, it's completely manageable with dialect based therapy and the right prescription medication. I started on an SNRI called Effexor XR and picked up the book he recommended to me followed by copious amounts of online research. *Book referenced at bottom. Although being told you might have a personality disorder is scary, it was relieving to know that there was hope and I finally had words and ways to describe how I am feeling. 

I immediately switched the type of therapy I was taking part in. I was exploring the Cognitive Behavioral Therapy option with other counsellors, psychologists, and therapists and was starting to think of therapy negatively and that it was a croc of shit to be honest. 

My poor parents immediately felt guilty and blamed themselves for my diagnosis and I must admit I blamed them too at first. The cause of BPD is still somewhat unknown. Are we born with it, do we develop it through experience or is it triggered by substance abuse? Honestly, in my case it was probably a number of things. Growing up, I was so explosive that I don't blame my parents for not wanting to deal with my mood swings and I thought they were the reason I felt abandoned and alone. (A common symptom of people with BPD). After countless hours of DBT with my girl Wendy (my therapist that I owe my entire life) I started to work through my shit and understand myself more, which has made me into the person I continue to grow into: kind, compassionate, understanding and responsible (most of the time). 

I am not cured by any means but I finally have found healthy coping mechanisms that don't put myself at risk. So that brings me to the moral and conclusion of my story: Where am I today? 

Today, I am still on anti depressants. I went off anti depressants in summer of 2018 because my boyfriend at the time compared his excessive drug and alcohol abuse to me taking an anti depressant everyday. So, I proved him wrong. With help from a doctor, I slowly weened myself off and remained anti depressant free for just over a year. 

I am now on Pristiq, which has actually been super helpful to me. I don't experience the same side effects I had on Effexor and I am in a healthy relationship where my current partner encourages me to do whatever I can to feel better and for me that means being on an anti depressant. Will I have to be on these forever? I'm not sure. I have good days, great days, okay days, and downright shit days where I still think about ending it all. However, whenever I'm having one of those days, I reach out to my friends and family who are always willing to listen and reassure me that it's just my mental illness talking while still validating my feelings and letting me know it's okay to feel defeated. 

Life is not perfect and I still scream cry and get wine drunk on weeknights more than I probably should but I don't constantly have people reaching out to my close friends asking if I'm okay (I used to post some questionable things on social media that worried those around me).

I found passion and inspiration working for arguably the best company in the world. My job challenges me and keeps me on my toes. I feel understood by my peers and am encouraged everyday to be myself and share the love I have for others. I've been given so many opportunities to make real change in my organization and in the world and I am so excited to share these initiatives when the time is right. All I can share for now is that I won't give up until I have influenced as many people as I can, and made the lives of people who work in our restaurants better. I care deeply for others and I've found ways to channel this energy in a healthy way, with the help of my current job.

TLDR; it's okay to not be okay. You CAN and WILL get through this. Be easy and kind to yourself. YOU are important. YOU are loved. YOU belong on this planet. You are NOT a burden. Your feelings are VALID and JUSTIFIED. We all have a story so above all else, be kind. Be authentically yourself. And don't forget to tell the people you love that you love them.

Thank you for reading and thank you Jo and Britany for allowing me to share my story. You two are so inspirational and have made an impact on my life. Okay done. 

oh yeah and this is the book the psychiatrist referred me to. 

Sometimes I Act Crazy: Living with Borderline Personality Disorder

Jerold J. Kreisman, Hal Straus