I'm a mom... with Borderline Personality Disorder.

People look at my scars from self-harm when I walk hand in hand with my daughter. Whispering behind my back: ,She is dangerous.’ ,Poor child.’ ,She shouldn’t have any kids.’ ,They should take her daughter away from her.’ But they do not know that I’m not dangerous. That I’d do everything to protect my child from danger. That the only person I’m dangerous for is myself.  That I had my reasons. That it was my only way to cope with my emotional pain. That it was my only way to survive.

People think that I’m overprotective or that I do not take care of her at all. Not knowing that I’m not stupid, that I have learned enough in my life to know what a child needs. I’ve been through so much, that I know how I have to react and guide her. That I know that it is okay to ask for help. That it’s not weak. It’s strong, it’s brave. That it’s okay to learn and make mistakes.

People say that moms with BPD are the worst kind of parents. Manipulative, jealous, incalculable. Not knowing that I overthink everything I say and everything I do. Because I know how big the impact could be when I overreact or say something wrong. I know what could happen if I’m incalculable with my reactions or emotions. I try my best to stay calm and react the same. Most of the time, I can. But sometimes I can’t. It’s human. That doesn’t make me a bad mom or a dangerous mom. I know that one of the most important things what my child need is security.

Sometimes everything is too much for me. Because I have BPD. That awkward sickness inside my head. Those voices who are telling me what I have to do, or not to do. Those voices who are telling me that everything I do is wrong. The flashbacks in front of my eyes. So real that they scare me. That I lose reality. But even then I know what I have to do. I know the best thing I can do is talk. Talk with my daughter. Bring her upstairs and take my time to recover. To get energy. So I can be the best possible mom I can be. Because it’s enough.

Some people think I have temper problems because of BPD. But I have more patience then most people I know at my age. Before I lose my temper people have to go very, very far. I can stay calm as long as possible. Of course I can get mad. Everyone can. But that is human. When I get mad it is not my BPD. It’s a normal reaction like everyone else experiences.

Sometimes I don’t know what I am, who I am. Sometimes I lose track of my identity. I can’t love myself. I hate myself, my body, my thoughts, my memories. How can I teach my daughter to know who she is, to love herself, when I don’t? I do my best to never talk negative about myself when she is around. To talk negative about other people when she is around. I do my best to make compliments to myself. I want her to see that I’m able to laugh at myself. That it is okay to be bigger, to have scars, to love yourself. It’s okay to be different, to make mistakes, to learn. Because it is too important. I can say as much as I want. But she will learn from my actions. She will learn from what she sees.

I’m a mom with BPD. That stupid Borderline Personality Disorder, and different other disorders. But that doesn’t make me less human or a bad parent. I’m just a different mom, with different needs, who sees the world in different ways.