Get Me Out of Here: My Recovery from Borderline Personality Disorder

292 Pages·2004·1.19 MB·English

by  Rachel Reiland

Get Me Out of Here
Get Me Out of Here
My Recovery from Borderline Personality Disorder
RACHEL REILAND
®
HAZELDEN
Hazelden
Center City, Minnesota 55012-0176
1-800-328-0094
1-651-213-4590 (Fax)
www.hazelden.org
©2004 by Rachel Reiland
First published by Eggshells Press, 2002
(Original edition titled I'm Not Supposed to Be Here) First published by Hazelden, 2004. All rights reserved
Printed in the United States of America No portion of this publication may be reproduced in any manner
without
the written permission of the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Reiland, Rachel.
[I'm not supposed to be here]
Get me out of here : my recovery from borderline personality disorder / Rachel Reiland.
p. cm.
Previously published: I'm not supposed to be here. Minnesota : Eggshells Press, 2002.
ISBN 1-59285-099-5
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-59285777-7
1. Reiland, Rachel—Mental health. 2. Borderline personality disorder—Patients—United States—
Biography. 3. Borderline personality disorder—Treatment. I. Title.
RC569.5.B67R45 2004
616.85'852'0092—dc22
[B]
2004047373
Editor's note
This publication is designed to provide accurate information in regard to the subject matter covered. It is
sold with the understanding that the publisher and author are not engaged in rendering psychological,
financial, legal, or other professional services. If expert counseling is needed, the services of a competent
professional should be sought.
To protect the anonymity of the author, her family, her friends, and the many professionals who helped
the author through the therapeutic process, pseudonymous names have been used to represent all people,
locations, and institutions described in this book.
08 07 06 05 04 6 5 4 3 2 1
Cover design by David Spohn Typesetting by Tursso Companies
Note from Original Publisher
Dear Readers:
Seven years ago, I met Rachel Reiland on my Welcome to Oz Internet Listserv
support group for people with borderline partners.
The members of my group were living in the midst of a capricious tornado:
alternately confused, terrorized, and hopeless. Then Rachel stepped in.
Recovered from her illness—an incredible accomplishment—she explained to
members what probably lay behind their partners' illogical behavior. She
revealed the inner terror she experienced as a borderline, enabling them to see
beyond their partners' controlling and abusive behavior.
And because she was recovered, she gave them hope.
When she showed me her first draft of this book, I was awed by her
courageous escape from the prison of her own mind. And as an author and
writer, I was taken away by the raw power of her writing style. She survived;
then she wrote about it with a profundity that made her story unforgettable.
Though I was working on my own publications, I made it my mission to
ensure that Rachel's story be heard by the entire community of individuals and
clinicians interested in borderline personality disorder (BPD). I knew that the
book would take readers on a journey of understanding of what it's like to have
BPD, give new hope to the borderline community, and help erase the myth that
borderlines never get better.
With the support of others eager to tell Rachel's story to the world, I published
this book with my own imprint, Eggshells Press. Hazelden Publishing and
Educational Services then bought the publishing rights to bring this book to a
larger audience.
Whether your life has been touched by borderline personality disorder or not,
Rachel's journey through mental illness is fascinating and cathartic. It shows that
fundamental change is possible if we have the courage to face our own demons,
look them in the eye, and banish them from our self-perception. It doesn't matter
what we have to overcome: BPD, anorexia, or some other mental illness. The
point is that with help and a commitment to recovery and healing, we can
overcome it and heal our emotional and spiritual wounds.
In a way, this book is a love story: a mother's love for her children, her
husband, her psychiatrist, and, ultimately, for herself. My hope for you, the
reader, is that this book impacts your emotions, gives you the experience of what
it's like to have BPD, and shows you that if a person is committed to recovery,
recovery is possible.
I hope you find it as richly rewarding and life changing as I have. And may it
give you a better understanding of how it feels to not just be symptom-free, but
to live with contentment, self-love, and true joy.
—Randi Kreger
Coauthor, Stop Walking on Eggshells and The Stop
Walking on Eggshells Workbook; Owner,
www.bpdcentral.com and the Welcome to Oz family of
thirty-five Listserv support groups for family members of people with a
borderline in their lives
Foreword
Rachel Reiland's courageous struggle with borderline personality disorder (BPD)
is a tale that is both harrowing and reassuring, disturbing but sustaining. Her
battle is typical yet unique. These paradoxes are like the illness itself. BPD is a
disorder characterized by contradictions. Its cure is derived by navigating
through the straits of emotional extremes into the tranquil waters of compromise
and consolidation.
Get Me Out of Here details Reiland's recovery. Her triumph results from the
collaboration with her talented and unconditionally accepting psychiatrist. In the
doctor, she found compromise between her desperate childhood fears of
abandonment and her adult-derived defenses of self-destructiveness, attacking
rage, and nihilism. From the remnants of her frightened, vulnerable childhood
(which she labeled “Vulno”) and her “Tough Chick” personae, Reiland fashioned
her individual humanity.
Some of this story is typical: early family conflicts, abusive relationships,
feelings of insecurity contributing to destructive behaviors such as rage attacks,
promiscuity, and anorexia. The extreme behaviors of BPD constitute the high
drama in the stories of those who endure its ravages. But Reiland does not focus
only on the flamboyance of the symptoms. She also describes the small, intimate
nicks and cuts that bleed slowly and painfully, day to day.
Reiland's recovery is, in many ways, atypical. It is attained through an
intensive, four-year course of traditional, psychoanalytically oriented
psychotherapy, punctuated by several hospitalizations, some lasting for several
weeks. Unfortunately, such a treatment program would be unavailable to most
patients today. Most hospital psychiatric units are not geared for extended stays
of more than a few days, and most insurance will not support this intensive
treatment regimen.
Fortunately, Reiland possessed financial support to pay for her care. She also
maintained a supportive, loving relationship with her husband and children. And
she developed a trusting relationship with an experienced, knowledgeable
psychiatrist. Although many sufferers may not share all of these blessings, they
can, nevertheless, still achieve the victories she accomplished through the same
persistence and courage she demonstrated.
BPD is the monstrous, metastatic malignancy of psychiatry. Most
professionals shun patients with this diagnosis, convinced that they are
exhausting, hopeless, and often terminal. The sickest, most severely psychotic
schizophrenic patient is preferred over one with BPD, because at least there is
some feeling of control over the treatment process. Hospitalization and
medication can easily and quickly subdue the schizophrenia monster. But BPD
symptoms can rage unpredictably, are difficult to control, require months or
years to detect improvement, and can overwhelm the vulnerable therapist.
Until recently, a diagnosis of BPD was a label of hopelessness for both the
patient and the doctor. With a suicide rate of almost 10 percent and no consistent
treatment approaches offered, the prognosis was considered to be poor.
However, with developments over the last ten years, such pessimism is no longer
warranted.
Refined treatment approaches, such as dialectical behavioral therapy and
adapted psychoanalytic techniques, have demonstrated significant effectiveness.
Long-term follow-up studies, just now becoming available, illustrate that
individuals with BPD can survive and thrive. Recent studies confirm that many
borderline symptoms resolve over the years.
Although continuous treatment significantly augments the recovery rate, many
patients achieve remission even without therapy. Over time spans ranging from
six to fifteen years, as many as three-fourths of all patients with BPD will have
resolved symptoms such that they no longer qualify for the BPD diagnosis.
These patients would then, within the medical lexicon, be considered cured. Few
other chronic medical conditions (e.g., diabetes, emphysema, hypertension, and
schizophrenia) can achieve this ultimate level.
Reiland's Get Me Out of Here is here to declare that raging mental illness can
be cured. Like Reiland, we must recognize that despite disappointments even
from those whom we count on—family, friends, health care providers, insurers
—survival ultimately depends on the individual's courage to explore his or her
own unique humanity. Then we can embrace the support and caring available to
all of us. As Dr. Padgett insists to Reiland, “Love is infinitely more powerful
than hate.”
—Jerold J. Kreisman, M.D.
Coauthor, I Hate You, Don't Leave Me: Understanding
the Borderline Personality and Sometimes I Act Crazy: Living
with Borderline Personality Disorder
Acknowledgments
My recovery was not an individual effort but was only possible with the help of
more great people than I could ever list here—many of whom probably have no
idea just how much of a difference they made in my life.
In particular, I'd like to thank Dr. Padgett and Father Rick, who led the way on
my journey to healing; Randi Kreger, whose persistence and encouragement has
enabled my story to make it to print; my loving children and my husband, Tim,
who refused to give up on me even in the darkest of times. His love, loyalty, and
laughter have made ours the best marriage I could ever be blessed to have.
Prologue
How could my mother have done this to me? She told me that kindergarten
would be such fun. She lied. She wanted me out of the house and out of her hair
—the same as always.
Mrs. Schwarzheuser knelt beside Cindy, heaping praise on her perfect yellow-
green trees. Cindy's mother would be so proud. My orange, purple, and brown
paint had run together, and my picture looked like a putrid blob.
Golden-haired Cindy was Mrs. Schwarzheuser's favorite. I hated her—those
perfect little ringlets tied up in colorful ribbon, that perky little nose, the blue
cotton dress with the frilly lace around the collar. Ribbons, lace, dresses—
sickening. Mrs. Schwarzheuser hated me, but that suited me just fine. I hated her
too.
I seethed with jealousy as Mrs. Schwarzheuser showered Cindy with
compliments. Suddenly, rage overwhelmed me. I seized a cup of brown paint
and dumped half of it over my picture. Glaring at Cindy, I leaned across the table
and dumped the other half over her drawing. I felt a surge of relief. Now Cindy's
picture looked as awful as mine.
“Rachel!” Mrs. Schwarzheuser yelled. “You've completely destroyed Cindy's
beautiful trees. Shame on you. You are a horrible little girl. The paint is
everywhere—look at your jeans.”
My blue jeans were soaked with brown paint. They looked ugly. I looked ugly.
Mrs. Schwarzheuser frantically wiped up paint to keep it from dripping onto the
floor. Everyone was watching.
I felt my body go numb. My legs, arms, and head were weightless. Floating. It
was the same way I felt when Daddy pulled off his belt and snapped it.
Anticipation of worse things to come—things I had brought on myself because I
was different.
“In all my years, I've never seen a child like you. You are the worst little girl
I've ever taught. Go sit in the corner, immediately!”
Shame on Rachel. That language I understood. And deserved. I wasn't like the
other little girls. I hated dolls and other “girly,” pink toys. I hated being a girl
more than anything. I wasn't any good at it. If I had been a boy, things would
have been different. But somehow God put me into a girl's body by mistake. I
wondered if I would go to hell for daring to think God made a mistake.
Mrs. Schwarzheuser was right. I was horrible.