I don't talk about it much, but I am often in physical pain. This is due to tension and it feels tight and painful across my upper back, shoulders, neck and face. My jaw is constantly hurting. In the last few months, this pain has been particularly bad. It feels as if someone is pulling at the muscles in these areas, particularly in my face. I feel like I want to let go of this tightness, but I just don't know how to. In the last few months, I have felt tense almost all of the time. It's as if my body doesn't know how to relax. It feels as though my muscles are being stretched and that I am holding them in a position that they don't want to be in. I wonder if it is because I almost constantly feel under threat. My BPD means that I am always on alert: Did I say something wrong? Are they upset with me? Why is she looking at me like that? Am I saying enough? Did I say too much? I have suffered with pain as a result of tension and stress since I was a child. Luckily, there are times when I am not in pain at all and other times when I am in a small amount of pain. However, there are periods in my life where the tension is so strong it impacts my quality of life. I do yoga. I put tennis balls between my back and the floor and the wall. I use heat packs and hot water bottles. I take hot showers. I have a foam roller. I do a lot and some of it helps, but mostly for a short time only. I think I could do more with breathing exercises in order to trick my mind into a more relaxed state. But I find relaxing hard. Very hard. I don't have fibromyalgia, but I have heard of quite a few people with fibromyalgia alongside their BPD; I know that chronic and widespread pain is often a large part of fibromyalgia. Do you struggle with muscle pain? Do you have any ways of coping?

For the last year and a half, I have not been able to see a GP when I have needed to. That is not an exaggeration. Not being able to get a GP appointment has been a huge source of stress for me. It has made me feel anxious that I am going to run out of medication and end up, quite likely, in a mental health crisis and at risk. I have tried every method I can to get a GP appointment and to no avail. The practice at which I was registered (until today, when I signed up to GP At Hand) only allows you to book on a Monday morning for the week ahead. You can't book two or three weeks in advance, for example. I have called many Mondays in a row at 8am and have not managed to get through on the phone for an hour and a half. By the time I have finally got through to a receptionist, all of the slots for that week have (of course) gone. In these situations, the receptionists have told me to ring at 8am for a same-day 'emergency' appointment, even though my medical condition was not an emergency and did not require urgent medical attention just....medical attention at some point. So in an attempt to get an appointment, I tried ringing at 8am on a weekday. I tried this many times and it was always the same situation; I did not get through on the phone for ages and when I did all of the same-day appointments were taken. The receptionists then advised me to queue at the door on the same day. I feel this is incredibly unfair access: people who need same day 'emergency' GP appointments are not always well enough to queue outside before 8am. How is everyone with a disability going to have equal access to appointments when the point of access is by queuing at the door at 7.40am? When I was having horrendous drowsiness as a side-effect of my quetiapine, waking up to get myself in the queue was extremely hard. The first time I queued for an appointment I arrived at 7.50am. I was not early enough. I did not get an appointment. I cried at the reception desk. The second time I queued I got there at 7.40am and I was sixth in the queue. I managed to get an appointment, but it was with a nurse prescriber. She couldn't give me a prescription for my medication without talking to a doctor, so I had to go away and come back later in the day when my prescription had been signed off. Not being able to see a GP when I am on two prescribed medications and one medication that has not yet been released to my GP by my psychiatrist has been a huge source of stress for me. The NHS is being gradually starved of funds by this Tory government: a government that is not providing access to health and social care for those who need it, or supporting vulnerable people. Yesterday I signed up to GP At Hand. It's an online NHS GP that is currently being trialled in London. Appointments with a GP happen over the phone or video chat. I was able to get an appointment at 7pm for 9.30pm tonight. I will write a post soon about how that goes. Can you relate to my struggle to get a GP appointment? How has it affected your mental health?

[TW this post mentions suicidal thoughts] Sometimes everything feels too much. This is because my emotions are always on full volume. I rarely feel a mild sadness, instead I feel crushing devastation. It's the same with happiness; often this for me is euphoria. Since I started on this combination of medication however, my emotions have been ever so slightly muted. Just a tiny fraction. This is not a loss to me, but a gain. It means that I can cope in my daily life much better. Instead of swinging from euphoric to suicidal in minutes every day, only every now and again do I have such deep troughs and high peaks of emotion. This usually happens when I am triggered by someone close to me: I swing between feeling abandoned and worthless and so relieved when I realise I'm not actually abandoned that it's an engulfing sense of being able to live once more. For the last few years, I have had suicidal thoughts every day and sometimes for hours on end. At the moment though, I am having very few days with a lot of suicidal thoughts. This is what progress looks like for me. I used to spend time crying on my bedroom floor for up to hours each day and I do that for less time than ever now. In spite of these steps, living with BPD is so hard because the emotional intensity is nonetheless relentless. So is the constant feeling of vulnerability: who is going to hurt me? how will I deal with the pain? how am I going to cope? If I feel safe, it's only for a moment. I am always on the look out for rejection and abandonment. When I think I see the signs, or I think about seeing the signs, it throws me into a vortex of despair. And there I am again, on the bedroom floor crying. DBT is helping me to manage my emotions. So is medication. And amazing people who are supporting me each day. But I wish I could feel more confident and not constantly fearful that I will be rejected or abandoned every day.

*TW This post mentions self-harm and suicidal thoughts* By offering this fictionalised account of a day in my life I hope to give a glimpse into what living with this condition can be like. Rather than describing what a bad day for me might look like, this attempts to portray an average day (although of course there is no such thing as an average day, especially with BPD!). 7.30am Wake up. Last night I had a dream that I lost control of my emotions and was screaming and crying in front of my colleagues. It's quite common for me to have nightmares. I then grab my phone and see that I have a text. The sight of a friendly, affectionate message and a cute Whatsapp sticker makes me feel so good. Time for breakfast. I feel great. 8am I eat breakfast and take my medication (antidepressant). Before I leave the house, I check that I have my book, extra medication, DBT skills cheat sheet, phone charger and headphones. I listen to my Harry Potter audiobook as I walk briskly to the station. Without something comforting to focus on, I usually start worrying that my friends don't like me or that I have said something to upset someone I love. Distraction, self-soothe and improve the moment are three DBT skills I use everyday. 9.30am I arrive at work & get started on my to-do list. I work in a charity with a health/social equality focus. I do some video editing, attend a meeting about digital transformation & take phone calls from clients and health professionals about referrals. I’m feeling effective and confident- I derive a lot of satisfaction from helping people who want to access our services. 11am I ask my colleagues if they would like a coffee and, when someone doesn’t respond to me, I begin to panic that she is upset or annoyed with me. Whilst I make coffee, I'm flooded with fearful thoughts: ‘do people like me?’ ‘am I a good person’? ‘Have I offended my colleagues?' When I return to my desk, I manage to focus on my work but inside I feel embarrassed and uncomfortable. These are familiar feelings. 1.30pm I take a short lunch break. I try to use mindfulness to ground myself, noticing the sounds and smells around me. I notice that I'm having anxious thoughts about people I love: 'do they know I care about them?' 'am I a good friend?' 'do they still love me?' Thinking over and over about these things is what my therapist calls rumination and it's very much linked to my fear of abandonment. It's hard to stop. I get a sweet text from a loved one and I feel instantly relieved. 4.30pm I have to leave work early for a medical appointment (unrelated to mental health). The guilt kicks in when I leave the office an hour early. I start to think: 'how dare I leave work early?' 'everyone must think I am so lazy'. I feel both anxiety and guilt rise up in me. I know these thoughts and feelings have been happening for many years so I use the DBT skill 'radical acceptance'. It helps. 5.30pm During the medical appointment, I am triggered. Something that the nurse said has sent a huge wave of shame crashing over my body. I feel so disgusted with myself that I want to self-harm. I am flooded with horrible images and memories. It's as if all the words in my head are shouting at me. It's really scary. I manage to fight back my tears until I can rush into the bathroom. Once inside, I begin to sob. My suicidal thoughts start to tell me that I can't cope and that I'm unlovable. My whole body hurts. I wish I could feel safe once more. 6.30pm Although these thoughts and feelings continued for nearly an hour, I managed to calm myself down on the bus home by focusing on my audiobook. These days- thanks to DBT and lots of support from others- I'm able to calm down much quicker than I used to. I also no longer resort to self-harm like I used to in the past. I'm feeling fragile but I manage to tell myself that these emotions will pass. I'm used to crying a lot (even in public) because my emotions come quickly and intensely. I have a small cry and almost instantly feel better. Suddenly I notice so much beauty all around me and feel intense joy. My thoughts race: 'Ah! I love everything! Life is amazing!'. Such intense mood changes are really common for me. 8pm When I get home I manage to throw myself into cooking. My therapist has taught me how to participate in what I am doing; noticing smells, colours, sounds, rather than focusing on others around me. This is a helpful way of managing my BPD because it means that I am not looking at people around me for potential signs of rejection or abandonment. 9pm I sit down to watch TV with my close friends who I live with. Instead of listening to the programme, I keep replaying the events of the day in my head: 'Did I upset someone? Did I do the wrong thing at work?' I keep quickly checking my friends' faces for signs that they are annoyed with me. I love being with friends but when I have had a difficult day sometimes it is easier to be alone. I head upstairs to my bedroom which I have decorated so it is extra-calming... 10pm I've taken my evening medication and I've got some soothing music on. I play Animal Crossing which helps me a lot. I exchange some texts with a loved one and feel a little more relaxed. I know that I go through a lot each day with my BPD and I attempt to validate my experience. Thanks to the therapy hat has helped me so much, my nighttimes are much better than they used to be. I no longer fear how I will survive the next day. Can you relate to my day? I would love to hear your thoughts.

*TW This post talks about self-harm and suicidal thoughts* Earlier this year, I was introduced to the Animal Crossing video game series published by Nintendo. The specific game that I began playing was Animal Crossing New Leaf on Nintendo 3DS. I am not a big video gamer and I don't play any other games on a regular basis. However, I can safely say that this game has been a huge source of support for my borderline personality disorder. Without Animal Crossing, I believe I would have engaged in far more self-harm, impulsive behaviours and have been a lot more distressed by my suicidal thoughts. Before I dive into how Animal Crossing has helped me, let me give a quick introduction to the game. In Animal Crossing New Leaf, your character is the mayor of a small town populated with friendly animals. Your time in the game is spent engaged in leisurely pursuits; making friends with the residents, catching bugs, fishing, collecting fruit, hunting for fossils or carrying out other pastimes such as growing flowers or decorating your house. Nintendo: All You Need too Know about Animal Crossing New Leaf I thought I would outline the five main reasons why Animal Crossing is helpful for my BPD. 1. It's a safe world Due to my BPD, the world can be a frightening place for me. My thoughts about myself, others and life itself can change intensely and suddenly. One moment I feel calm and cheerful, the next I feel suicidal or want to hurt myself. Someone can say one sentence to me and it can plunge me into a whirlpool of distressing memories. Similarly, I can be lying on the floor crying because my friend hasn't replied to a text. I can feel shame and sadness so intensely that I'm in physical agony. Animal Crossing provides me with a place that feels safe. It offers a world into which I can retreat when the outside world feels threatening and the world inside my head is terrifying. Unlike most video games, in Animal Crossing nothing bad happens. The character cannot 'die', there is no 'game over', 'lives' or health'. In fact, the worst thing that happens to the characters is that they are stung by bees or fall into a small hole. When my emotions are running high, I startle easily and my senses are rattled. When I am playing Animal Crossing I never have to worry about being startled or shocked- there is nothing which jumps out, chases or makes a loud noise. Everything is gentle, even the soothing music. 2. Interaction without people When I am feeling particularly emotional (especially during the times when I am struggling with feeling ashamed of myself or scared of abandonment) I find social interaction really hard. This is because when I am feeling very ashamed or anxious, I am extra-sensitive to criticism or rejection. This is because I can understand other people's words as 'proof' that I am a 'bad person'. At these times, I am vulnerable to 'episodes' when my emotions become agony and I become so scared that I can scream, shout, lie on the floor sobbing or hurt myself. During these times, I find it easier to avoid people. This is because being triggered in front of people leads me to feel extremely embarrassed and exposed. Unless I am with someone who knows that I am feeling very vulnerable and is able to be extra gentle with me, every social interaction feels potentially threatening. However, when I play Animal Crossing and the characters talk to me, I'm not at risk of being triggered by their words in the same way that the words of a friend or a family member can affect me. 3. The DBT 'Stop' Skill One of the skills I have learnt in DBT is the stop skill. It's a skill which can be used when reaching crisis point. It's about being able to notice that you are reaching a point where your emotions are so intense that you might act impulsively (in my case, self-harming, running out of the house, wanting to scream). I have incorporated Animal Crossing into my break down of this skill. When I notice that I am reaching a crisis point, I can 'stop' by playing Animal Crossing. I tell myself that instead of hurting myself or engaging in an impulsive behaviour, I will play Animal Crossing for twenty minutes. I then focus all of my might on my character and my village. In my experience, is extremely hard to do this when your emotions are so strong and urges feel all-consuming; I have only learnt how to do it with the support of therapists over the years. I use the DBT mindfulness skill of 'observe' whilst playing the game. I tell myself to hear the sounds: the gentle music, the sounds of the stream, the voices of the animals. I try to take in the bright colours, the flowers, trees, the beach. As my therapist has told me, emotions are like a wave and they pass. Animal Crossing is there for me as a safe distraction whilst my emotions lessen in intensity. --- There are so many reasons why I love Animal Crossing; not least because I love all things cute and I find the talking animals just so utterly adorable. Some people have been quick to judged the game as a frivolous or meaningless, but for me the game is a vital tool for me to manage my emotions. In fact, the game has been there for me in a similar way that Samaritans (helpline) have been there for me: non-judgemental, gentle, 24 hours a day and 7 days a week. Animal Crossing offers a sanctuary that I can conjure with the touch of a button. Thanks to Animal Crossing, I am able to be in a safe space for the time it takes for the world outside to feel okay to inhabit once again. Have you played any of the games? If so, have they helped you? I would love to hear from you.

I find it really helpful having a close friend who, like me, has BPD. She goes through many of the same emotional experiences as I do and is the only person I have in my life who I feel truly understands the intensity of the emotions I feel and how all-consuming my shame, guilt and sadness can be. Without this friend, I think I would feel far more alone in the world. Many people with BPD experience emotional states that are so strong and so painful that they can feel impossible to describe to others. When I was first diagnosed with BPD, I found that I could capture the intensity of emotion and the all-consuming nature of my feelings more easily through drawings than words. Because my BPD episodes and emotioanal meltdowns have strong physical sensations as well as emotional ones, I found that drawing could represent where the feelings took hold in my body. For example, drawing a girl with scribbles on her stomach, limbs disconnecting from her torso, eyes wide with terror or a body plummeting through space. Sometimes I use metaphors to explain my BPD to others. I talk about 'drowning in emotion', being 'sucked into a vortex', or the extreme opposites of 'fire' and 'ice'. I sometimes am able to verbalise the inner dialogue in my head and explain that there is screaming inside my head: sometimes swearing at myself, yelling hateful or terrifying things about myself. ---- Over the years, I have come to accept that many people will not accept my feelings or see them as real. Some people struggle to believe that my moods are real when they can change so quickly. However, I have also discovered that some people really want to learn what it is like to have this condition. Sometimes, there are people who are open-minded enough to learn and are able to catch glimpses of what it might feel like to have volatile and intense changes in emotion, thoughts and perceptions. These are the people who listen, validate and don't assume that everyone experinces the world as they do. Many people with BPD experience the world, themselves and other people as inconsistent, fragile and shifting. I lack a sense of safety within myself and I often feel unanchored. Many times in my life, it has felt desperately important to me to have someone (anyone) who understands how I feel to make up for all of the times I felt alone. More than being able to describe what it is like to have BPD, for me it is about having people who will listen to what I am saying and accept that my experience of the world is not the same as theirs. When I didn't have these people in real life, I turned to social media and blogging to find that sense of understanding. ---- A lot of people with BPD, me included, are scared of people they know googling BPD in order to learn more about it. When I was first diagnosed with BPD, I was petrified of disclosing my BPD to people I know because I imagined them searching online about the diagnosis. As you probably know, the results of a simple Google search with the terms 'Borderline Personality Disorder' can bring up horrendously stigmatising websites, videos, forums and blog posts. Some are so horrible that they include hateful images and grotesque stereotypes. They shame people with BPD, misunderstand their suffering and vilify them unnecessarily. Many of them are deeply misogynistic. ---- Explaining BPD can be tricky for many reasons...its intensity, the identity confusion it can encompass, its shifting nature and the stigma. If you have any tips on how to explain your BPD to others, I would love to hear them.

This weekend I was crying, laughing, crying, laughing. Every few hours terror hit me and I had a wave of feeling like I was worthless, unable to cope, a drain on everyone around me and a terrible person. Then, as quickly as the wave of terror came it ended-- and there I was again eating breakfast, chatting with friends, singing along to a song. I spent a lot of the weekend afraid (as always) that I am unlovable. There are times when I am terrified that my emotional instability makes me 'too difficult' to love. In fact, my biggest fear is that I am too 'difficult to love'. That my emotions are too strong, too overwhelming, my emotional states too shifting, too volatile, too chaotic for me to be lovable. When I reflect on this fear I can come to several conclusions. Firstly, maybe it is me who finds my own emotions too strong, too overwhelming to love, rather than others around me. Perhaps I am projecting my fear onto others. I find living life with this emotional intensity very difficult, so perhaps it is me who is finding it very hard to love myself as I am. But then I think about my experiences and I realise that I have been treated in such a way that turned my emotions into hurricanes. I think about how I couldn't learn how to regulate my emotions and they swelled up until they turned into huge, churning forces. I also think about all of the painful experiences that I kept inside me in a huge sinkhole of loneliness that tried to swallow me. I think about my flashbacks, my persecutory inner monologues, the parts of me that split off in an attempt at self-preservation when I was in so much pain I thought I would die. I know rationally that I am lovable. It's clear to me that I have so much love to give and that I deserve to receive it. During those times when the terror comes over me, it is time for me to acknowledge the pain enclosed inside this terror and listen to how much affection it is craving. Do you experience waves of terror where you feel unable to cope and that you're scared you're unlovable? How do you cope with it?

[TW This post discusses suicidal thoughts and self-harm] One part my life with BPD is having 'meltdowns'. When I have a meltdown, I experience the world as a terrifying place where nothing and no one feels safe. I am trapped in a state of emotional agony and struck by a tonne of distressing memories. Often I am overwhelmed by distressing images and thoughts about not being able to cope, being out of control and suicide. During a meltdown I cannot see the bigger picture; I can only feel this moment and it is excruciating. All the terrors of my past meltdowns, self-harm and suicidal thoughts are upon me and I cannot think of a future in which I am alive or safe. I feel as though I am shattered into a million shards and unable to be pieced back together. I feel utterly alone and abandoned- like a screaming baby with no one to enable her survival. I feel fragile, desperate and overwhelmed, but ultimately disgusted with myself. In short, I feel unlovable, worthless. I might say over and over again: 'I want to go home'. I might iterate that I feel scared, unsafe and can't cope. It is at these times that I am at my most vulnerable and in need of the most love. Yet my behaviour is erratic, my thoughts like lightning bolts, my words confusing. Others around me might not know what to do and they might feel helpless or scared too. I want to be close to others at this time; desperate to be touched, to be hugged, soothed or to have my hand held. Yet every touch or word can make me flinch: I feel unworthy of kindness. My meltdowns used to be a lot worse than they are now. I used to self-harm almost every time I had an episode and now it is very rare that I do. I used to feel suicidal each time, but I don't always feel that way now. I used to run away or leave the room. I was so agitated and terrified, I would run down the street or make a plan to die in an attempt to get away from the threats that I felt. Now I am able to stay, lie down, be still, cry, breathe and wait until it passes. Do you experience meltdowns like this? How do you cope?

[TW This post mentions suicide and self-harm] The main way that BPD affects my life is that I have intense emotions and I can quickly become overwhelmed by them. My emotions can come very suddenly-- seemingly out of nowhere-- and they can be extremely strong. I can easily become very distressed and have what I call a BPD 'episode'. When this happens I usually feel suicidal and/or like self-harming and have lots of fears and scary thoughts. At these moments, I often feel like I am a terrible person and feel ashamed or disgusted by myself. I sometimes have difficulty managing such strong emotions and in the past (and sometimes now, but less so) I have had problems with impulsive behaviours. Many times, I have ended up acting in out-of-control ways when I have been distressed because I didn't know how to cope with the emotional pain I felt. Another way that BPD impacts me is that I tend to have a lot of anxiety in close relationships. I often fear that people are thinking the worst of me and sometimes I feel terrified that people want to leave me. I often feel nervous about my social interactions and am worried that I have upset or offended someone. I am sensitive to any changes in relationships or in others' behaviour and this often makes me anxious. I regularly experience intense feelings of shame and embarrassment which is hard to deal with. I have a lot of suicidal thoughts when I am under stress or find things difficult. Overall, I experience BPD as an intense emotional and interpersonal sensitivity. Whilst I experience suicidal thoughts, intense sadness and shame, I also feel emotions like joy and love just as intensely. BPD is not all I am, but it is a part of who I am at the moment because it affects me every single day of my life. It is incredibly hard and painful at times, but I love my life and who I am.

[TW This post mentions suicide and self-harm] I was diagnosed in February 2014 when I was 23 years old. It was very hard to get my diagnosis of BPD. I was in contact with professionals about my mental health for many years before I got my diagnosis of BPD. Looking back, I had mental health problems from the age of around nine, but it was never recognised. I received a diagnosis of depression at the age of nineteen, but it didn't feel fully right to me. My mood would swing from suicidal to joyful in a matter of hours. I worried secretly for many years that I had bipolar. I was too scared to tell anyone. Then, when I was 22, a GP suggested to me that I might have BPD. My counsellor at the time also mentioned that she thought I might fit this diagnoses. I was having mental health crises at the time which saw me in and out of A&E and in contact with Crisis Teams. After lots of confusion and waiting, I managed to see a psychiatrist via my university mental health service. She assessed me and diagnosed me with BPD. I left the appointment with no no follow-up from her or any specific support. I felt very alone with my BPD for several years. That Christmas, I had probably the worst mental health crisis of my life. I ended up going to A&E where I was traumatised by nurses and was treated inhumanely and left without support in an incredibly vulnerable state. I lost faith in mental health services and in professionals. I managed to graduate university and I moved to London. I was too scared to reveal my diagnosis to my new GP for fear of being discriminated against and shamed. I didn't ask for any help from medical professionals. After a year or two, I got a private therapist. She worked psychoanalytically. I didn't dare tell her I had a diagnosis of BPD for around four months when I felt I could trust that she wouldn't shame me or make me feel less of a human with real needs. Two years later, after a mental health crisis that left me chronically suicidal, self-harming and signed off work, I was referred by my GP to a crisis team with psychiatrists and specialist mental health teams who assessed me and, again, diagnosed me with BPD. After around a nine month wait after being diagnosed for the second time, I began Dialectical Behaviour Therapy (DBT). This is therapy programme is an eighteen months minimum course. I am around seven months in now. It is helping immensely.

I was lucky enough to be featured on an epsiodeof the wonderful Mind Matters Matter podcast created by Helen and Hadley from Not DefEATed. Helen interviewed me about my life with BPD, with a particular focus on how I use drawing to help me cope with my intense emotions. I talk about the silence, stereotypes and shame I've faced over the years. You can click here to listen to the podcast on NotDefeated.net or find it via iTunes. Let me know what you think!

I'm often asked what helps me so I thought I would share a bit about some of the main things I find helpful. ​ It's important to note that no two people are the same and what I find helpful might be very different to the sorts of things that help you. I thought I would share some of the things that help me just in case they resonate with you and your experience. ​ 1. Awareness Understanding that I have certain emotional experiences because of what I've been through in life. Acknowledging the intensity of my emotions and the intensity of the distress. Accepting that I'm a person with a set of specific emotional needs. ​ 2. Feeling deserving I used to think I deserved my suffering. It took me a long time to get to this place where I feel deserving of compassion. I needed a lot of support during this process and it was very painful at times. I still struggle sometimes with being self-critical and self-punishing. ​ 3. DBT I am currently doing a year long DBT (Dialectical Behaviour Therapy) programme. This involves individual sessions and group skills training, as well as phone/text support. I am finding it very helpful. ​ 4. Medication I take two types of medication and they help me a lot. They help with the intensity of the emotions- both the highs and the lows. I had the debilitating side effect of drowsiness for a few months, then it subsided. Starting with the mind ​ -  Self-expression I draw, write or do other creative things to 'get my emotions out'. Writing and drawing are like having conversations with myself and it can help me (and others) understand what's happening. -  Nature Watching YouTube videos of animals (especially dolphins and whales!) watching animal and nature documentaries, being outside in a forest or green space. ​ -  Validating my emotions I am finally at the place where I can make an attempt to validate my emotions- to acknowledge that how I feel is real and valid. My emotions can be terrifiying and overwhelming, so this is not easy. I'm not always able to do this, but with the help of my therapist I'm learning. - Understanding my thoughts [TW suicide] Just because I am thinking something, it doesn't mean it is true. I might think 'they hate me', when actually that is not the case. Similarly, my suicidal thoughts don't mean I deserve to die, rather they tell me that I'm in a lot of emotional pain right now. ​ Starting with the senses/body ​ - Heat Being cold makes my emotions (especially sadness and shame) harder to contain. I use heat packs and hot water bottles a lot, and hot showers help too. ​ - Water Anything with water- from rain sounds in music, swimming, watching ocean animals on YouTube, being in the shower... ​ - Smell I use perfumes, scented shower gels and have essential oils around my room. Smells seem to work on my emotions. ​ - Stretching / yoga Yoga has helps me to better respond to my needs and emotions. I do it in classes or from YouTube videos at home. Up until recently I haven't been able to do yoga because I used to feel incredibly sad and I started to cry unstoppably in the classes. ​ - Pressure / weight This can be my heat packs weighing down on me, or pillows or heavy blankets on top of me. Soft blankets also work quite well, feeling the touch and warmth. The pressure and weight helps to alleviate the intensity and physical pain of intense emotions. ​ Social / Community - Knowing I'm not 'the only one' Joining Twitter way back in 2014 was the starting point. I was able to see others going through the same things as me. As I started blogging about my experiences (anonymously), people related to my experiences and this was a huge relief. ​ - Peer Support I get amazing support via online communities such as the BPD community on Twitter. I also have found a couple friends with BPD who really 'get' what it's like and I get so much friendship and comfort from them. ​ - Being more open When I was keeping everything silent, it made my shame grow. Although being open can make me feel exposed, vulnerable and open to stigma and discrimination, it also opens up the possibility of deeper connections with others, support and many other benefits.