I started college when I was seventeen, studying science, a degree I had absolutely no interest in achieving. Like everyone else I was both excited and nervous about going to university, and despite my disinterest in my course, I thought perhaps I would at least manage a passing grade and keep my parents happy. On my first day, I was still self harming, had isolated myself both socially and at home, and my mood swings were at their most unpredictable and debilitating. The intensity of my highs had decreased, but the lows completely enveloped me, terrified me. Then you add in anxiety, anger, fear to the mix and I was just a big ball of neurotic fun. At this point I was keeping my problems hidden, so I had no idea what was happening to me. All I knew was that I was different from everyone else, that there was something fundamentally wrong with me, with my brain. I believed I was damaged in some way; and even though I already felt completely alone, there was still a fear that if my family discovered the truth that they could somehow reject me even more. I know, how can you be afraid of rejection from people you already feel rejected by? The human brain is a complex and wondrous machine, but it can also be really, really stupid.
I was pleasantly surprised by college; there was such a broad spectrum of people, all of whom had their own interest, backgrounds, opinions, desires...I quickly realised that this was the place where you got to be who you really were. And once you embraced your true self you would quickly find other people who shared some of your interests, whether it be a love of the theater or geeky jokes (Geology rocks, still a classic). Over time I made friends, I had people to sit with at lunch time and in lectures. People to be lab partners with and get coffee.
I had people to go to the student bar with. People to get drunk with during the day when I was supposed to be in a lecture or in work. I can feel your shock from here. That's right, all of my problems and pain didn't suddenly disappear because I had people to watch movies with. My self esteem didn't magically change, in fact I hated myself even more. There are two reasons for this in my opinion. The first, is that I had spent so long mirroring other people that I was struggling to find and accept my own identity. It is a slow process, and a confusing one, so while I was trying to figure out who I was, I still had to use other people to temporarily fill in the gaps. I was one part me, and one part whoever I was speaking to at a given time. Or more often than not, I was one part myself and one part a jumble of the multiple personalities in my vicinity. This was exhausting, and with it came a constant state of fear of discovery. The second reason, was that spending time with my peers, people I considered intelligent and interesting, made me even more aware of my inferiority and failings as a person. Everyone was smarter, funnier, quicker and quite simply, better than me.
So I tried to dull the growing pain inside me with alcohol, and going drinking was an easy way for me to socialise with my new friends. This behaviour rapidly spiraled out of control, to the point that I went to exams inebriated. But exams didn't matter to me, because if people wanted to go to the bar with me then they must like me. It was a misguided attempt at seeking the validation I so desperately wanted.
The other way I tried to find approval was with the opposite sex. Up until that point boys were something entirely out of my comfort zone. I was so self conscious and had my self esteem was so low that interacting with someone in a romantic or flirtatious manner was out of the question. The brief encounters I had with boys up to that point were short lived and awkward. By the time I turned eighteen, towards the end of my first year, I had kissed less than ten people. That ever present fear of rejection made me balk at the very idea of displaying any sort of interest in boys, but I knew that if I could get them to like me, to find something in me attractive, then I would be a worthwhile person. Once again I looked outside myself for validation, and as with drinking, it had disastrous consequences.
I have thought long and hard about discussing this aspect of my personality disorder so publicly. At first I was going to brush the surface in order to save my dignity, but I think there is a lesson to be learned from it, and that is what I want to do with this blog. Find a purpose to all this pain and hurt, and I hope by sharing my mistakes and experiences I can show someone what not to do, or show them that they aren't alone if they have gone through something similar.
However, due to the nature of the next part of my story I am going to post it separately, so that those of you who would rather not read about that part of my story can choose not to.
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