MY CONFESSION – BRUTALLY, HONESTLY WRITTEN.

I apologise for the length of this post. It is a very serious subject to me and the explanation of this did not warrant abbreviating it, so do forgive me my ‘indulgence’.

(Photo credit – https://heatherstinnett.files.wordpress.com)

A comic illustration, you may, at first glance, assume. But, in this case, not so. It’s a very serious topic – a confession – very long overdue.

As you will know, I have written much of my guilt and despair over the last few months. Well, here I bare my all with much humiliation, guilt and fear – fear of being disliked, disapproved of, despised even.

I came to terms many years ago with the fact that I have Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) – it was a case of having to really – fight or flight? As much as I wish I could say that I chose the option of fight; in many ways, I found myself, at the time, thinking, “I can’t deal with this”. Therefore the possibility of flight came into play although I didn’t strictly take flight – it was more a case of burying my head in the sand like the proverbial ostrich, not wanting to admit or see the reality of the situation. Intertwined with that was my plunging my head deeply into the soil around me, my disability thrown, nonchalantly into the mix.

Now, comes the tricky bit – tough – brutally honest and extremely painful to confess. I have a condition alongside the BPD, I have DPD (Dependent Personality Disorder).

If you care to read up on the definition of DPD – https://psychcentral.com/disorders/dependent-personality-disorder-symptoms/ – it does not come across very favourably at all; in fact, quite the opposite. I’d go so far as saying even very unappealing and not worthy of any compassion.

I cannot make a simple decision without first seeking the advice of someone else, often a Carer. I will do anything it takes to ensure I am ‘cared for’ in one way or another even if that means carrying out tasks or chores that are unpleasant for me. Anything to be seen to be complying, thereby, ensuring the highest probability of my care being continued. Even, making myself seem more helpless than I am – (this is not to say that I don’t need physical assistance, I certainly do – I just need a little less of it, thereby, having not been totally honest with my Carers or anybody else either) for which I am full of remorse. As for my mental health aspect of this, that it is another but closely-linked kettle of fish which I may go into in a later post.

Often, the decisions, straightforward and obvious to most people, are difficult for me -What to have for tea? What item of clothing to wear that day? Which programme to watch on TV that evening? More important choices also, such as – Which bank shall I have my account with? How much do you think I should spend at Tesco this week? Pathetic really. Basic, simple questions with, you would think, equally simple replies. But, not for me. For me, they are excruciatingly difficult decisions.

Shame on me!! I hang my head, plunged deep into the shame and humiliation of suspecting this very strongly. If you do read up about it, it will make me sound like a selfish, greedy schoolgirl, wanting everyone to run around after her. I can assure you it’s not like that at all. It amounts to, for me at least, living a daily life of emotional pain and guilt and as I’ve said much shame.

This poem goes some way to explaining in very simple terms, partly how I feel:

If I could right the wrongs

How free my mind would be

I’m trapped inside this bell jar

And dying to be free

~~~

I long to be independent

Not twice-daily care all the time

Free from all this helplessness

Tell me, is that a crime?

~~~

Needing help with meals

But doing some preparation

To help to get it together

Without causing complication

~~~

Can I dispense with my care?

Surely I could manage with less

But, oh, my needs in other ways

No carers? I can’t say yes

~~~

Sinking into deep depression

Plunging into total despair

Not rising in the mornings

Because no-one would be there

~~~

Oh, how I’ve longed, to be honest

How I so much longed to be free

Now, no more hidden secrets

Just me as I am, just me.

So, there – my guilty, shameful and long-overdue, secret, confession. Bare, naked and vulnerable. I feel those very things right now, having finally and at length, written this post; unsure of the reaction or feelings of my readers but open to all comments be they good or bad. But, here I am, being true to myself, honest to all and if I dare to have the cheek to say it, free at last).

8 thoughts on “MY CONFESSION – BRUTALLY, HONESTLY WRITTEN.

  1. Ellie, dpd is an illness, so what if you need want others to care for you more than you need, isn’t that your humanness coming through, disorder or no disorder, your human, you want and need care to thrive and survive, and if you do things to try to get your needs met, then you just do, I don’t judge you for it, I don’t see it as bad, I also have been guilty of doing things in the past to get my needs met, by others. you’ll do anything when your alone and lonely and disabled and mentally ill. you are not bad! I think you are very honest. I am so proud of you for being able to admit to it. sending you hugs, my friend! ❤ xoxoxo don't be hard on yourself! You are still the same kind caring gentle ellie that I love! 🙂

    1. Oh, bless your soul, Carol anne, for understanding so well and for not judging me in a negative way ❤ – I am so comforted by your words and they make me feel a little less guilty of my perceived 'crime'. I hadn't thought of it from your point of view and appreciate the fact that you do still love and care about me. Thank you so much, Carol anne – you are a good friend indeed. Lots of love, Ellie xxx ❤

  2. Ellie, no judgment passed here at all but only a salute to your bravery. I hope your heart feels a little lighter. You needn’t feel ashamed at all. You have shown amazing strength and courage and I commend you xx

    1. Thank you so much, Monique, for such kind and understanding words (I’m not sure I deserve them but I do very much appreciate them). I do feel as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders and it does help to be validated which I thank you for sincerely, Ellie xxx

  3. Elliesofia…what a brave post and I can imagine the fear you felt in finally putting that into words. I agree with Carol Anne – it is an illness, and although one that makes you feel “less than and needy” it is still an illness. I am sorry you are struggling with this, but think you are brave and strong for sharing your truth with us and allowing people to begin to know who you really are. Thank you for sharing.

    1. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my post and for your reassurance and caring. It was a really tough post to write. I don’t regret writing it although I was afraid of people’s reactions but everyone has been so kind and understanding. Thank you so much, again, for stopping by to read this. I appreciate that very much x

  4. I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to say the wrong thing, but I don’t want to say nothing at all, either.

    I get ordinary decisions being hard for you. That’s happened to me as well, when I’m really stressed.

    I think all you can do, for your own self-respect, is to do the best that you can every day. Be the most independent person you can in that moment, that hour. Maybe it would help for you to be more independent with small things. Small victories count.

    I can’t comment on how much reliance on carers is okay, although I certainly think it’s all right to take into account the effects of loneliness. I’m so sorry you’re in pain, and I will pray for you. God is good, and he will help. You are his infinitely precious daughter. I don’t know what else to do but to tell you that you matter, both to him and to me.

    1. Oh, bless you, Cathleen – thank you for your caring, kind and thoughtful reply. It means a lot. Thank you for understanding especially as you have difficulties making decisions when you are stressed. With BPD and DPD, I am stressed every minute that I’m not asleep and then sleep is rarely peaceful and punctuated by horrid spells of overpowering anxiety, fear and guilt over the whole matter.

      My care needs do vary somewhat day-to-day so there is the possibility/opportunity to be a bit more independent at those times, at least with the few things I can do by myself or with less help.

      I’m fairly certain that my reliance on my carers is partly for my physical care but equally for psychological, DPD related reasons i.e. both mental and physical support. I am fortunate that all my readers here have been so non-judgemental and that helps enormously. I think my individual and regular carers would understand this also. I think it would only be the ‘authorities’ who almost definitely wouldn’t connect the need for care with my psychological DPD needs, and that’s what I fear the most as they are the people who have the power to remove some of my care if that’s what they see fit.

      Thank you again for caring as much as you do and for reassuring me that God is good and that He can help relieve some of my emotional pain. I’ve sort of lost track of my faith amidst the chaos in my mind so it helps to hear your words. With love, Ellie xxx

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