Life Traps | Pt. 25: The Reign of Emotion

Posted by Maria

When emotion takes over it can lead to catastrophic results and severe exhaustion at the end of an episode. I wanted to take a little bit of a deeper look into my emotional responses before I continue forward in the book. Bear with me, this might get a little bit ugly.

DISCLAIMER: This post contains talk of violence/abuse and self-harm.

My paralyzing fear

The greatest and most impactful emotion in my repertoire is my fear. Almost every episode starts with it. It triggers a chain reaction nearly every time I feel it to a substantial level, and often times it won’t end well. Fear blurs my mind, triggers dissociation, and after I fly off into the void that is my mental sanctuary, it more often than not leads to terrible events taking place.

My fear makes me paranoid and sends me into a hyper state of fight or flight. In that state, especially if I should dissociate (or blackout, as in I will not recall what happened) it will lead to actions taken that I will most likely regret. Such actions include self-harm in various ways, verbal/emotional abuse of whoever happens to be the one I perceive as the threat/ instigator and even physical threat to that person.

My violent fury/desperation

When it comes to the verbal and physical threat to other people or myself, the mood is typically one of two: either I’m enraged, or desperate for the pain to end. Both ways lead to a sort of amnesia that sometimes has come in handy but others… Let’s just say it is not very pleasant to wake up with things broken, your body aching and in the worse case having blood in your hands. Not to mention the terror and pain in the eyes of your loved ones after they had to witness such an outburst.

I am likely to fall into despair if I have nothing else but myself to blame. Situations like the extreme notion of not having any worth, that people would be better off without me, that I am a terrible trash person… Those lead me into such an agony that I can barely cope with it and making me want to get out of it by any means necessary, typically via physical self-harm. The pain of knowing how truly worthless and unloved you are is one of the worst things a human can experience in my experience.

Fury, on the other hand, comes out when I have a suitable target for my pain. In these moments my pure white torment spills out in a chaotic manner, making me hurt the people I love with the foulest things imaginable. I will take their secrets that they entrusted with me, I will wield the loving things they’ve done and buff them with the human errors that happen in everyday life, and I will twist the living shit out of them until everything becomes corrupt and painful – just a part of my black painting. 

In the worst cases, the two fuse together and I go into a furious defense mode. This means that should I be petrified with fear in a corner, dissociated and out of it, chances are I will smack you to the next millennia if you come too close. In these moments I am only concerned with my safety, not anyone else’s. Everyone else becomes a threat to my life and as such, they need to be put down. Your best bet is to not come too close to me (in my personal bubble), and stay nearby. Observe and see if I answer you when you talk to me. Should I start moving in weird ways (scratching, swinging, grabbing myself, etc) or mumbling in twisted tones of pain, it’s time to call the ambulance. Chances are I’ve completely lost my senses, and there is nothing you can do to help.

My manic joy

Another danger to mine and other’s physical well-being is my manic episodes. While normal joy and excitement are encouraged and typically a glorious thing to behold, my borderline mania takes things to the stratosphere. As per the typical description of mania, I become invincible (in my own mind), nigh immortal, I get easily aggravated and frustrated if things seem slow or don’t go in the direction I wish them to go, and most of all, I have way too much energy.

This hyper state gets out in leaking bursts, much like the rage and fear, but is depicted by severe overconfidence and oftentimes accompanied by a very concerning amount of maniacal cackling. While this might seem humorous to you at first glance and for the initial five to ten minutes, I assure you, it gets very dangerous very fast if allowed to continue. 

If I don’t manage to calm myself (for example I had too much coffee or the like, or I didn’t catch the switch in time), it will most likely lead to me hurting you or myself, physically or mentally. I’ve been known to challenge people, annoy them since I look for fights and arguments. Mania also brings with it insomnia and the fact that I have no judgment of how I’m using my physical power. I might go for a ‘playful nudge’ and you will find yourself on the floor ‘cause I shoved you. I might think I’m giving my husband a gentle lovebite, and he may find teeth marks that ooze blood on his skin.

My overwhelming empathy and sorrow

When I heard about the annihilation caused by Breivik in 2011, I cried for two days. Not because I had anyone I knew present in that horror, but purely because I instantly put myself in the shoes of the people who lost their children, friends, and family. People with BPD are often great empaths, and as I’ve noticed, will respond and react to pain. I am, in essence, a pain-sponge. 

I have been conditioned (by myself and others) to accept the pain of others as my own, since that is what proper people do, right? Proper folks are the ones who show empathy and sympathy. The ones that will put their needs and wants aside for the sake of a stranger. Guys… put this notion somewhere in a basket and drown it in the attic, let the mice eat it, and never dig it out again. 

My trait of empathy has been abused so many times that I’ve lost count. People come up with tragic stories that spark the mind and turn it into thinking that nobody should have to be in that situation. Nobody deserves the shadows. That is probably why we are such amazing empaths, we know what pain can be like, that emotional turmoil, and we do what we can to lessen it around us. Well, my BPD clan-members, it’s time to stop. It is not our job to chase away other people’s shadows unless it actually happens to be the legit job that we get paid for.

My extreme love and hate

With extreme rage comes extreme hate. This extreme hate can not live without its counterpart, love. In the borderline world, we have this thing called splitting. It means that we tend to see things as black and white, good or bad, angel or demon. This is very well showcased in matters of romance, in our love lives.

I will love you till the day I die. I will be whatever you need me to be. I will sacrifice my soul for you and do my best to bring you happiness. And when I finally die, having served you my entire life willingly, I will stay with you and make sure you are protected. I will wait for you an eternity, sit in one spot like a good dog until you come back to me and release me from my station.


If you ever hurt me. If you ever betray me. I will curse your name till my dying breath. I will stain you and everything you stand for in my toxic mists. I will come to you in the night with a blade. I will break your bones until you cry for mercy and then I will deny you. You will not leave this plane of existence until I’m done tormenting you. Not until I’m satisfied. Until you understand the pain you’ve caused. Until you have been paid back thousand times over. 

And then I wake up. 

Nothing to see here, move on. Oh, my love, why are you so sad?! Let me embrace you, I love you so much.

Do you let your emotions decide for you? Or are you a healthy person with some logic in there as well? Let us know in the comments!

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