5 BPD anchors that keep me grounded and thriving

A post for the feelers, the fluctuators, and the beautifully complex souls.

Like most people navigating a mental health diagnosis, I have days that are bright and peaceful, and I have days that are…well, chaotic, intense, and feel like they last 100 years. I live with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). It’s a condition full of contradictions, feeling everything too much and then suddenly feeling nothing at all. BPDers have intense emotions. My therapist and almost anyone that knows me would probably agree that I have moments of rage, anger and depression, yet I’m affectionate, loyal and enjoy caring for others. Loving deeply and pushing people away at the same time. Being fiercely independent one minute and desperately afraid of abandonment the next.

I wasn’t diagnosed until my early 30s, after years of being mislabelled, misunderstood, and mis-prescribed. I’d swing between being praised for being “so passionate and intuitive” to being called “too much” and “overdramatic.” The emotional rollercoaster is exhausted.

Living with BPD can feel like you’re walking through life with no emotional skin. Every comment, every interaction, every silence, it all lands deeply. But here’s the thing: I’m still successful. I still show up, still create, still love. And most importantly, I’m still here.

If you’ve ever felt broken, unloveable, or like your moods are too much for this world, this post is for you. Below are five rituals that keep me grounded, not cured or perfect, but functioning, thriving, and often joyful. They aren’t revolutionary, but they are consistent.

1. Gentle Movement – especially when I don’t want to

Some days I wake up and feel like I’ve been emotionally hit by a truck. Exhausted, depleted and needing to be alone. I have found that moving my body gently reminds me I’m not just a floating head with too many thoughts, but a living being who enjoys simple things.

Walks without my phone, Pilates, lying on the floor and stretching like a sleepy cat. I don’t punish myself into movement, there is nothing forced or too harsh. It’s not about burning calories for me, it’s about burning through the emotional fog.

2. Name the emotion without feeling guilty about it

With BPD it’s easy to either become my emotions or run from them completely. Now, I’ve started naming them. “I feel rejected” instead of “I am rejected.” “I feel sad and scared” instead of spiralling into shame for feeling that way.

Naming an emotion doesn’t fix it, but it contains it. It separates me from it just enough to breathe when I say it out loud, whisper it or write it down. For the longest time I thought journaling was some weird stuff, now I’m always writing down feeling and thoughts ive had for that day.

3. Structure - the flexible kind

BPD loves chaos. So I give myself structure, but not the rigid, corporate kind. After 20+ years of quitting and being fired from jobs, I came to understand that a traditional job is far too rigid for me to stick with. Being surrounded by bright lights, people, noise and no flexibility is hell for me; thus I would become extremely fatigued. These days I have a loose rhythm to my day usually: wake, coffee, gets kids ready and out the door, movement, creative work, rest. I follow a pattern that soothes my nervous system without boxing me in.

For me, structure = safety. And when my brain feels safe, it calms the storm inside me.

4. One “Reality Anchor” per day

Sometimes when I dissociate or spiral into worst-case-scenario thinking, I need to come back to reality. Not the future. Not the past. Not my fear brain’s 24/7 news channel.

So I ground myself with a minimum of one anchor each day. A cold shower, walking the dog, making my bed slowly, sitting in the sun with bare feet on the ground, listening to a favourite podcast while folding laundry. Anytime I’m anchoring, I leave my phone alone and often put it on Do Not Disturb.

These tiny acts remind me: I am here. I am safe. I am not my thoughts.

5. Self-Validation (even if it feels stupid)

Some days no one understands me. Not my husband, not my friends, not even my therapist. But I can understand me.

So I validate myself. On paper, in the mirror, or in a whisper to myself in the car.

“Of course you’re feeling this way.”

“This is hard, and you’re doing your best.”

“You’re allowed to feel this way, let it out.”

Is it awkward at first? Yep. But does it work? Also yep.

Since my diagnosis, I’ve stopped trying to cure my BPD and started learning to live with it. Like an unruly houseguest who needs boundaries but also sometimes just wants a hug and a glass of water.

Success for me doesn’t look like perfection. It looks like self-awareness, repair, and showing up again and again, even when I’m scared, overwhelmed, or when I’m crying and laughing in the same hour.

If you live with BPD or love someone who does, please know this: we are not broken. Nor are we manipulative or unstable. We are deep feelers in a world that often rewards numbness. That makes us rare and with a little guidance, it makes us strong.

Be kind to yourself. You’re doing better than you think.

Are you navigating BPD too? What daily anchors keep you grounded?

5 Daily Rituals that help me live with Crohn’s Disease

5 daily rituals that get me through the good and not-so-good days of living with Crohn’s disease.

Like most people with a chronic illness, I have good days and I have not so good days. My bad days have varying degrees ranging from extreme fatigue and expensive periodontal work; to the worse kind when my disease flares so bad, the pain makes me think I’m going to die. 

I have Crohn’s disease. Diagnosed in 2018 at the age of 32, I suspect I had it for many years prior but was misdiagnosed repeatedly. Apparently I have a rarer form where instead or running to the toilet not being able to control my bowels, I suffer from severe constipation and need to work on keeping things moving daily and naturally. I’m also prone to fistulas which if you don’t know is an abnormal connection between two parts of the body that normally don't connect, often forming a tunnel or passageway. Can you imagine if your bowel connected to your uterus or if your bowel connected to your bladder? I can. I experienced both at the same time, and the incredibly sharp squeezing-type pain I experienced from them would jolt me awake several times a night. I was forced to stop working and underwent a bowel resection. As the world was going into lockdown for Covid, I was entering the hospital and stayed isolated with an already compromised immune system.

The surgery went well and I left with a new plan. Fortnightly (now weekly) injections of a biological immunosuppressant into my abdomen to keep Crohns under control. 5+ years on and it’s working wonders. There are minor side effects and when i get an illness it lasts 2-3 times as long. However I find I can subset most of this by taking better care of myself with the following:

Proper nutrition, high quality supplements, regular exercise, stress management, rest, prioritising my mental health. I also avoid gluten and some other trigger foods.

Since getting sick my thirst for life changed. It opens up a gateway to understanding so much more about myself, including wanting to become a mother all of a sudden and receiving another diagnosis. more on that in another post. In this post I want to share the things I did every day when very unwell and that i still do today. They are good for physical health, mental health and for your soul. Illness can be a very lonely place but I promise you the sun rises every morning and the stars come out every night. Look up or take a deep breath for inner peace.

1. Fresh air (without your phone) - I used to walk outside my house to my mailbox and be exhausted. This was enough for me to feel a gentle breeze, have the sun shine in my face and for me to hear the birds chirping. My dog would keep me company and we’d sit there together for about 20 mins. If you can manage more than this, garnering outdoors is wonderful for the soul and provides fresh air. Plus your watching something grow and flourish which can be incredibly healing.

2. Exercise - gentle. Start with and continue walking if you can. If your mailbox is all you can mange for now, perhaps try it twice a day instead of once. Can you get out your gate and walk 1/2 a block and back. If you can go further, go further whilst listening to your body. The goal isn’t to run out of breath or count calories, the goal is to move and avoid your joints like hips, knees, ankles and backs from stiffening up from zero movement. 30 minutes a day will do wonders for your health.

3. Rest - I get tired. Not always sleep tired, just fatigued and often I need to rest on my own. Resting is healing and you will do yourself a giant favour but ensuring you prioritise it often. Rest can be 10 minutes outside in fresh air on your lunch break, sitting on the couch and exhaling when the kids are (finally) asleep, or you might need longer such as a few hours to yourself. Can you schedule in time for yourself? Ask your partner/family/friends for help with the kids occasionally. I put this off for ages but when once I began asking for help, I felt so much better for it. Asking for help is the new strong and resilient. If you need help learning to relax try these micro-mindfulness tools.

4. Socialising: if you’re an introvert like me, you may benefit from finding some Facebook groups that share a common interest. ‘Mum of boys, Quilting for over 60s, Gingers are Us’. If you’re not someone who can control the scroll then you may be better suited to the offline world where you go outside and socialise. See friends or family or if that’s not possible, look at joining a social activity in your area each week. Low cost yoga class, cooking group, or create your own. 

5. Nutrition: Screw no carb/low-carb weird-ass diets. Just eat well by eat my whole foods, that you don’t have intolerances to, that you can afford and eat consistently. Avoid too many packed foods, even the ‘healthy’ kind. Eating well is more about what can you ADD to your diet rather than what you cannot have. Love chocolate? Same. There are tons of free recipes for chocolate bliss balls, peanut butter and cacao smoothie (I had one this morning). How to make chocolate - melt some coconut oil, add some cacao powder, a pinch of salt and a tsp or so of maple syrup. Drizzle on fruit or freeze into cute little moulds. Healthy no longer equals hard.

Things that are small and consistent which work in your favour much better then strict, over the top ones. Be kind to yourself.

Are you healing? What small rituals make you feel better?

The Sandwich Generation - a growing pandemic

The sandwich generation is best defined as: individuals who simultaneously have young children and aging parents to care for.

We hear a lot about the difficulties of becoming a parent. The struggles of post-natal depression, baby blues and hormonal changes have become more widely known with a growing acceptance along with it. For me, becoming a mother is by far the most insightful, heart warming, scary, challenging and beautiful experience. It opens up your eyes to a world not previously available. As if you have just stepped into a new and improved identity which is exciting and precious, yet leaves you longing for parts of the old identity. My point here is, it's common to hear about the joys and difficulties of becoming a parent. There are books, forums, free help available, mothers groups, dad’s groups, education systems and a society who sympathises.

Something not discussed quite as much (yet) are the challenges faced by those children once they are adults once it becomes their turn to be the carer. A carer for both their own babies and children as well as their elderly and increasingly dependent parents. No one really talks about how one day you won't be able to rely on your parents who live close by to pick up your children from daycare. Either because they are too scared to drive, or because injuries mean they cannot pick up my children from the ground when they scrape their knee. 

At 68 and 72, my parents are older but not what I would consider elderly. I suppose I considered that something that would occur once a person reaches age 80 or more. Both my mother and father have health challenges such as being overweight, heart issues, high blood pressure and alzeimers. For them, it looks as if every 1 year has been 3 or 4 and they are aging more and more rapidly. Every week or two my father sees a specialist, complains about it and then goes back to sitting on the couch to ‘rest’ and watch old cowboy movies. Alzeimers does not favour an inactive mind or body, though lifting a refrigerator with one hand would be easier to convince him otherwise. He will not leave the house without my mother. My mother is more independent. She does water aerobics twice a week, has social clubs like sewing groups she attends and enjoys time on her own without anyone to answer to. She is also fragile, very shy and relies a lot on my father to ‘do the talking’. They have been married for 45 years and have 3 children together.

Both my older sister and brother had their children some years ago when my parents were still fit and able to care for, play with, chase after and carry young children. 10 years later when it was my time for children, this is not the case. Both parents are bigger, slower, injured, more inactive, more tired, have more health issues and are stubborn. Neither can walk to the end of my street to come play at the park with the kids or walk with us whilst the children ride their bikes around the block. It is one block. Every time I speak with or see my parents I hear about their health problems and next doctor appointments which doesn't bother me, though it’s sad when it seems as if this is now the only thing they have left to talk about.

The other night we had them over for dinner and I could smell something that distinctly reminded me of urine. My almost 4 year old had not had any accidents and after checking my son’s nappy, it was dry. Then I realised it was my mother. She was embarrassed thus didn't say anything, though the smell gave it away and to make it more obvious, our dog went sniffing around the ares. The small was strong and after the left we had to air the house and sofa she was sitting on. This was a minor accident, though one I imagine will occur more frequently until the point that there is little to no bladder control left. Of course I fear the inevitable that one day soon one of them will pass and the other will need to be cared for. Private aged care homes are costly and public are often shameful. There isn’t a room in our house and a live-in nurse is often unaffordable. 

It is one of those things beyond my control, beyond anyone’s control. As the world’s population grows older and there isn't enough care available, what will happen to the elderly? In Australia there is a very low aged-care pension though this barely covers the basic cost of living, there is simply not enough left for support or care. It would bankrupt the country to do so. It seems growingly obvious that unless an older person has money to their name or children to care for them, they are destined to live in a public aged-care facility which compared to living alone and not caring for yourself, cannot be the worst thing in the world. 

If you find yourself in the same generation, wiping bums at both ends, just take it as it comes. We cannot predict what may happen when and when I'm old and grey and have slowed down significantly, all I can hope for is that my loved ones will care for me and visit me whilst allowing my independence and dignity. Everyone deserves that.