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?