Living with BPD: A Space for Understanding, Support, and Not Feeling Alone

Welcome to this space.

This project stems from a true story: alcohol, borderline personality disorder (BPD), anxiety, emotional relapses, unseen blows, and uncelebrated rebirths. Here you'll find an unfiltered account of my journey: what I experienced, what I learned, and what I continue to learn every day.

My intention is simple: that this space be of service. That whoever comes here finds comforting words, helpful tools, or at least the relief of not feeling alone. I'll talk about mental health, addiction, boundaries, family, therapy, and how I've had to rebuild myself more times than I'd like.

I don't intend to lecture. I'm simply sharing what sustained me when everything was crumbling. If any of this helps you, it will have been worthwhile. What you hold in your hands is:

1. A True Story

My journey with BPD, addiction, setbacks, therapy, and constant rebuilding.

2. Resources and Tools

Strategies I use to regulate myself, manage emotions, maintain boundaries, cope with parenthood while living with a chronic condition, and survive day to day.

3. Support from the Ground Up

I'm not a therapist. I'm someone who has been at a breaking point many times and has learned to get back up without any drama. There are no miracles here; there is honesty and support.

Childhood: growing up amidst noise and silence

My childhood was a strange place: too much noise when there was alcohol, too much silence when there was a lack of affection. I grew up seeing substance use as normal, as part of the environment, without understanding that it was scarring me from within. I learned to survive before I learned to live, to adapt to the chaos so I wouldn't break. But the chaos didn't just come from home. It was also at school, where from fourth to eighth grade I was "the sea cow." A cruel nickname, repeated daily, that haunted me for years. The bullying wasn't just insults: it was feeling watched, singled out, ridiculed for existing. It was walking into class with my body tense, waiting for the next comment, the next laugh, the next stare. It was going home trying not to cry so no one would see how much it hurt.

I didn't know it then, but that boy was already carrying battles that weren't his. Battles that made him grow up too fast. Battles that later accompanied me into adolescence, in my impulses, in my self-imposed demands, in the way I love and defend myself. And yet, that child survived. He endured. He faced things no child should ever have to face. And today I'm still learning how to nurture him from within, how to give him the love he never had, how to tell him it wasn't his fault, that it never was.

ADOLESCENCE, YOUTH AND ADULTHOOD: 35 YEARS WITHOUT KNOWING HOW TO GET HOME

For many years I lived trying to escape myself. Alcohol, cannabis, and other addictions became temporary refuges that only distanced me further from who I was. I traveled, changed countries, jobs, and people, but inside I was still broken. I didn't know then that BPD had been with me since adolescence. I only knew that something was burning inside me and that anything could overwhelm me.

The Fall

The story doesn't begin with my achievements, but with the day I hit rock bottom.

That day my life stopped being sustained by excuses, impulses, and noise.

That's where it all began: the fear, the clarity, and the decision to stop running away.

If you want to understand who I am today, you have to start with that collapse that forced me, for the first time, to face myself.

THE AWAKENING

There was a day when I stopped running. It wasn't a grand moment or an epic dawn, but it was a point of no return. That instant opened the door to everything that followed: confronting my past, ceasing to bury the pain, looking at myself without anesthesia, and beginning to rebuild myself from scratch.

For years I lived running: from my emotions, my wounds, my impulses, my own inner turmoil. I thought that enduring was the same as living, and that surviving was enough. But life confirmed that it wasn't: that the body takes its toll, that the mind demands its space, and that the heart, when ignored, eventually breaks.

The day I stopped running didn't make me strong. I became honest. I saw myself as I truly was: fragile, tired, wounded… and yet still capable of being reborn. That was the true beginning of my transformation, the point at which I began to choose calm over chaos, truth over fear, and life over escape.

If you truly want to understand where it all began, and how my recovery, conscious parenting, and current way of living with BPD all stemmed from that point, click here. The whole story is there. Unfiltered. Unmasked. Just as it was.

Effort, process, and personal work

My recovery wasn't magic or a heroic act. It was daily work, emotional relapses, and learning to live with myself without anesthesia. If you want to know how I did it, click here.

REPAIR AND PRESENT

Today I live with the scars, the limitations I've learned, and the work that led me to rebuild myself. My tattoos tell the story of that journey, and my body remembers every fall and every step forward. If you want to know what I'm like now, click here.

What you'll find here:

After so many years learning to manage alcohol, BPD, anxiety, guilt, and the physical and mental struggles… I understood something that took me half a lifetime:

my story is worth less if it only benefits me.

That's why this page isn't a diary or a personal shrine.

It's a place for anyone who is lost, scared, or tired to find something I didn't have in time:

a real, honest, and unvarnished path.

Here you'll find:

• Tools and strategies

Things that actually work in real life for living with BPD, staying sober, managing impulses, recognizing warning signs, and understanding your own limits without shame.

• Support from experience

I'm not a guru, I'm not a coach, I'm nothing like that.

I'm just someone who's been where you are, who's made mistakes a thousand times, and who still keeps moving forward. That's where I speak from.

• A space of calm and clarity

The noise of the mind can be suffocating. Here I try to bring order to things, to explain how to navigate a crisis without falling apart, how to ask for help, how not to give up when your body is broken and your mind is spinning.

• Real reflections and lessons learned

No motivational quotes or posturing.

Things I learned in hospitals, in therapy rooms, during emotional relapses, during rough nights, and also on days of great peace.

And all of this has a simple purpose:

That no one has to go through this alone.

That your journey is shorter and less painful than mine.

That you find a way to hold on even when everything is shaking.

If anything you read here helps you, even by a fraction, it's already worth it.

Where am I going:

I keep walking, my scars on display, my whole self laid bare. I'm not striving for perfection, I'm striving for awareness. Every day I learn something new about my broken body, my noisy mind, and the calm I'm slowly building. I grow as best I can, sometimes slowly, sometimes in fits and starts, but always forward.

I don't walk alone. He walks with me. And this entire journey—the past, the healing, what remains to be learned—has a single destination: a more serene, more honest, and more vibrant future. Free from toxins.

Important notice: The information on this website is for informational purposes only and does not replace medical, psychological, or psychiatric care. In case of emergency or emotional crisis, contact the appropriate health services. 📞 112 📧 ayuda@vivircontlp.com · Legal notice · Privacy policy · Cookie policy