I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder (BPD) over five years ago. A lot has changed since that time, but the one thing that has remained constant is the feelings of chronic emptiness I experience daily.
I am a hollow being, without purpose or reason. I don’t know why I am here in this world. The thing is, I’ve never known. Even as a child when I would be asked the typical question of what I wanted to do when I grew up, I never had an answer.
I suppose we are all trying to figure out the purpose of life in our own ways, but when that lack of purpose haunts us every day, things become a little different. There’s the existential and philosophical questions of the human condition that are indefinitely unanswerable, but even if I narrow it down to try answer questions like, “why do I bother today?” I am completely lost.
People craft their identity in multiple ways, whether it be through their role in a family, as a friend or through their profession and passions. I sometimes sit here and wrack my brain as to figure out how I could possibly find something that important to really “identify” with.
What defines me? On all accounts, there is nothing special about me. I’m average. People who love me tell me otherwise, of course. However, without something to grasp onto and fill this void, life is very difficult to live.
I’ve lived with this as a child, a teen and a young adult. Please don’t tell me it’s “just a phase.”
I’m unaware if the accompanying depression has arisen because of this emptiness or if it’s another diagnosis on its own. The combination of the two is intolerable.
I wonder what would fill this void. Lord knows I’ve tried everything — good and bad. The point is there is something missing. The depression makes me wonder if I even want to find something to make me feel more whole. Hopelessness is another component to the emptiness.
Fear also plays its part. What if there really is nothing to make this constant crisis go away? What if I never find something important enough to care about to save me? Identity disturbance is another feature of BPD, which goes hand-in-hand with the emptiness.
I’ve spent days immobilized by emotion, longing for something I don’t even know exists. There is a hunger that subsists inside of me that yearns for an answer. I want to figure this out. I need to figure this out. Otherwise I don’t know how I’ll survive.
Does chronic emptiness make me suicidal? Hell yeah. After reading the multi-dimensional experience I’ve described, I hope you can understand why it would make me want to give up.
The solutions as I see it are slim. How can you medicate what feels like a lack of a soul? I’ve talk-therapied myself in circles over this one. For now, the quest for some sort of wholeness trickles along. I hope I find relief soon.