Fourteen months ago I was drowning, like I was being sucked in by a riptide. Not literally drowning, but metaphorically in my life drowning. It started long before that and the more I fought it, the more underwater I felt. Every effort to pull myself out of the riptide left me further and further from my goals. It was obvious that there was something going on and that if I didn't do something quick, I was going to destroy what shreds of a life I had left.
Fourteen months ago I was barely functioning. On the outside, everything looked fine. Except for the select few that I let inside my inner circle, it seemed like everything was going fine. Everything was not "fine" (BTW what even is fine?). Every single spare moment of my day was spent ruminating over this idea that I was not enough. I was filled with so much self-hate, so much disgust towards myself, and so much shame in who I was. I didn't see my worth or my value. I didn't think I deserved to live.
For about a month, I was just straight-up suicidal. The only thing that kept me alive were my students. The thought of putting my sweet kids through that trauma was the only reason I had to wake up each morning. I knew I couldn't do that to them. But every weekend it took everything in me to remember that reason. Every break I had was like climbing a mountain just to get myself through the day.
When I was finally diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), I was relieved. I had no idea the stigmas surrounding this disorder because at that time I truly I found hope in this dark pit of despair. Through the diagnosis, I found a possibility that something could get better. It was enough to get me through. However, when I started this journey of therapy, I had no idea how much time, effort, MONEY, and heartache it would be. I had no idea what I was really getting myself into.
Starting Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT) last November was a huge culture shock. It's an intensive therapy treatment plan that involves weekly individual sessions, weekly skills group, and crisis skills coaching. DBT becomes your life. You eat breathe, and sleep DBT skills. The people in your group become the people who you relate to and understand. These strangers who have nothing in common with you, who come from all walks of life, all sorts of ages, all sorts of experiences becomes people you trust with everything. Because despite them being totally and completely different from you, they are the same. They have similar issues and struggle in ways that nobody else can understand except for your small group of crazies. I had no idea the friendships and relationships I would gain from my skills group.
The beginning of DBT is like jumping into a cold shower. It's a huge shock and you immediately regret the decision. There are all these words and this lingo that takes time to accumulate. Honestly for the first few weeks it felt like everyone was speaking a different language. It was scary to open up and be vulnerable with these people. It was uncomfortable at times and we were often pushed outside of our comfort zones. I swear I said about 10 words total in the first month of group. It was just SO foreign to me and I wasn't sure how to deal.
Now when I talk, DBT is ingrained in me. I use phrasing and words in ways that have DBT woven into it. DBT is in my blood and I'm proud of that. I worked hard to have gained this kind of mastery. I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into this (literally). I can't imagine my life without it (oh wait, yes I can. It is terrible. Life without DBT is terrible).
After FOURTEEN MONTHS, I have graduated from my skills group. I've learned the skills, I know the disorder, and I know how to keep building a life worth living. There is still so much work left to do. There are obstacles to overcome, cognitive distortions to reprocess, and behavioral habits to build. Yet, this is huge. I have been going to therapy 2+ times a week for over a year now and I am phasing out. I will be moving towards maintaining my recovering instead of clawing myself out of this dark, burning hole of Hell.
Research shows that 90% of BPD patients who complete DBT achieve a complete recovery from the disorder within 5 years of completing treatment. Within five years, 90% no longer fit criteria for the disorder. I had no idea that was what I was working towards. I honestly just thought I was learning how to manage this LIFELONG disorder. Does it mean I won't struggle with parts of the disorder for my whole life? No, I probably will. But it won't take over and infect every fiber of my being. It won't control my life like it has.
Completing DBT was the most gratifying accomplishment in my entire life. This is bigger than graduating from college. This was an investment into my entire quality of life. Like I said, the beginning of this journey was filled with being chronically suicidal and misery. I still struggle and still feel things intensely, AND I know how to manage and get through it. I know how to live my life in a way that is healthy and in line with my values. I am working towards building my life worth living and I am stunned by the person I have become. I am in complete shock over what has come out of this. I wouldn't have made it through the last year if it hadn't been for DBT (and all of the incredible people who supported me throughout this exhausting and emotional journey).
DBT has taught me that life isn't always black and white, that sometimes we need to take a step back and observe what's going on around us, and that we cannot be passive players in our lives. DBT saved my life and I couldn't be more grateful for it.
