Borderline
Page 1
BORDERLINE
BORDERLINE
Shabri Prasad Singh
© Shabri Prasad Singh, 2017
First published, 2017
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the copyright holder.
No responsibility for loss caused to any individual or organization acting on or refraining from action as a result of the material in this publication can be accepted by Bloomsbury India or the author/editor.
BLOOMSBURY PUBLISHING INDIA PVT. LTD.
New Delhi London Oxford New York Sydney
ISBN: 978-93-86643-07-0
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Published by Bloomsbury Publishing India Pvt. Ltd.
DDA Complex LSC, Building No. 4, 2nd Floor
Pocket 6 & 7, Sector C
Vasant Kunj, New Delhi 110070
Typeset by Fortune Graphics, Ring Road, Naraina, New Delhi
Printed and bound in India
The content of this book is the sole expression and opinion of its authors, and not of the publishers. The publishers in no manner is liable for any opinion or views expressed by the author. While best efforts have been made in preparing this book, the publishers makes no representations or warranties of any kind and assumes no liabilities of any kind with respect to the accuracy or completeness of the content and specifically disclaims any implied warranties of merchant ability or fitness of use of a particular purpose.
The publisher believes that the contents of this book do not violate any existing copyright/intellectual property of others in any manner whatsoever. However, in case any source has not been duly attributed, the publisher may be notified in writing for necessary action.
This book is dedicated to all
the wonderful people who are suffering
from any sort of mental illness.
In the loving memory of my
Papa R.C. Prasad
21st August 1950 to 30TH December 2003
PRAISE FOR THE AUTHOR
‘A complex first time book by Shabri, Borderline is a fictionalised account of her struggle with Borderline Personality Disorder. It offers an insight into her struggles- which one follows through the life of Amrita, the protagonist of the book. This is a riveting and well plotted read that every lover of honest and soulful writing will enjoy. I also have no doubt in saying that it will help a lot of people who suffer from anxiety, depression and any sort of personality disorder. As for others it will give a serious insight into the troubled mind of a sufferer. A tell all tale, I hope this book will bring about further discussions on a topic that needs to be discussed openly-Mental Illness.’
– Dr. Naresh Trehan, Chairman and MD Medanta
‘A searingly honest and well told tale of a young woman suffering the despair and stigma of a Borderline Personality Disorder. The author seems to turn her handicap around with the help of a very fertile imagination. A timely book in the age of anxiety.’
– Aman Nath, author and Neemrana conservationist
‘Borderline is a rollercoaster ride between the cities and cultures that slowly shape the protagonist Amrita’s understanding. Amrita’s childhood and young adult experiences are an essential part of her being. If one were to ascribe blame, she places it carefully on the complexity of her own parents’ relationship status. The tale of this vulnerable character will take you through a number of emotional responses.
A riveting account of an adult’s psycho-analytical memory of times past, the book takes readers into those deep dark nooks of the mind that lie forgotten.
Somewhere between a psychological rite of passage tale and an insider’s take on a complex disorder, this is not an easy read. But Prasad has beautifully captured the journey of Amrita’s life and made it easy to the ear. Whether it’s her own raging hormones or the own mind-body games she’s a captive of, a protagonist diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder is a tale that has not been told.
Come on – delve in and explore a mind that you’re relieved, is not exactly like your own.’
–Dilip Cherian, Founding Partner at Perfect Relations
and a former editor of Business India
and of the Observer
CONTENTS
Praise for the Author
Foreword
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1 : The Beginning
Chapter 2 : Life is in a Constant State of Flux
Chapter 3 : When I had Some Love for Myself
Chapter 4 : Following His Dreams
Chapter 5 : New World, New Love
Chapter 6 : The First Time
Chapter 7 : The Pain that will Always Remain
Chapter 8 : Tragedy Became Me
Chapter 9 : From Winter Bore Spring
Chapter 10 : Never Betray Your Beliefs
Chapter 11 : A Home Full of Surprises
Chapter 12 : Going Back
Chapter 13 : Transference of Some Kind
Chapter 14 : Black and White Moods and Views
Chapter 15 : Who Seduced Whom?
Chapter 16 : The Great Indian Betrayal
Chapter 17 : The Mind Needs Care
Chapter 18 : An Invisible Illness: Borderline Personality Disorder
Chapter 19 : Borderline to Borderline
Chapter 20 : Psychotic Paranoia
Chapter 21 : Incarcerated into Hell
Chapter 22 : Rose and Thorns
Chapter 23 : Life is Beautifully Borderline
FOREWORD
In nearly 30 years of being a Psychiatrist, I have always been aware of the fact that each individual who comes to me is unique. This awareness has kept me very open to experiments and individually tailored treatments. Like a Scientist or a Coach, I find my biggest accomplishments in the success of such experiments with my clients. I feel immense pride as I write this for one of my most consistent clients – Shabri.
This book started out as a therapy experiment. Her therapist Purnima and I could see that the pain that Shabri held inside her was not really letting her move on in life. Once a week sessions were not proving to be enough for her to address the need to vent about these matters. We decided that besides talking about these things, perhaps, it would be a good idea for her to write. Very soon, Shabri decided that if she was writing, she might as well make it into a full-fledged book that would not only help her but also others who might be finding themselves alone in this struggle. Everyone was skeptical about whether she would be able to write an entire book. But Shabri, with ongoing support from us, was determined to make it happen.
The experiment was a success the moment it began. Writing turned out to be the most cathartic experience for Shabri and there were times when she cried her way through some of the chapters. She was so motivated to write that she managed to write the first draft in just about a month. She wrote as if her life depended upon it. At times, the content itself would become so heavy for her that she had to stop writing for a while. The reviews and edits took a heavy toll on her, as she had to relive the same things again and again. It was nothing short of a miracle – seeing her get back to the book each time, and finally completing it. In the process, the kind of resilience that Shabri has built within herself is remarkable.
This book could not have come from a more authentic source. After all, who can write better about Borderline Personality Disorder than a person who has lived with it all her life. One of the biggest strengths of Shabri has been her honesty and insight into her own problems. In her battle against Borderline Personality Disorder, Shabri achieved two significant milestones very early in her treatment – Buildin
g trust in her therapist, and Consistency or Regularity in her sessions. These may sound like regular things, but when you look at it from the perspective of a Borderline Personality, these two things are nothing short of extra-ordinary. We cannot look back at any point in all these years when Shabri missed an appointment or was late for it. Borderline Personality makes a person prone to, besides other things, having unstable relationships, an inability to trust, and a tendency to feel slighted very easily. Shabri broke these patterns in her relationship with us. We could give her any kind of feedback and she would receive it positively. It is qualities like these that add integrity and conviction to this book.
Writing this content purely as therapy homework would have been far easier. Therapy content is always a very private and rather sacred matter. Converting it into a book, baring it all and putting it out in public domain, knowing very well that it could lead to judgments and controversies is extremely difficult and requires immense courage. Shabri struggled to convert her own life story into fiction, adding twists and characters. What makes it all the more painful is to have your life edited by others.
As this book continues to serve its purpose in Shabri’s life, it should help a lot of others out there too. Anyone who has encountered any pain in life can relate to this book. It can not only help people identify these patterns in themselves but also encourage them to reach out. Dealing with a mental illness can be a very scary and isolating experience, whether it is depression, anxiety, addiction, or any other dysfunctional pattern. One of the primary objectives of this book is to let people know that no matter how bad it may seem, you can reach out, and it won’t be so bad anymore.
I sincerely hope that this book is just the beginning for Shabri and for all its readers. This book is a huge leap towards generating greater awareness and acceptability around mental health. Through this, I wish that more people get inspired and step out. This book will go a long way in removing the stigma and misunderstandings around Borderline Personality Disorder and mental health in general. I urge everyone to read this with an open mind, suspend all judgments, and live this journey with the author. This will help you grasp the real essence of this book.
Wishing all the very best to Shabri, our brave young lady!
Dr. Sanjay Chugh
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I wish to thank Paul Vinay Kumar and the entire team of Bloomsbury. I wish to thank my editor Manisha Sobharjani. I wish to thank my parents Mukta and Dr. Amandeep Singh and above all I wish to thank my doctor, Dr. Sanjay Chugh and my therapist Purnima who have been through all the madness with me.
Chapter 1
THE BEGINNING
When the miracle that is the mind begins,
It can carve a path towards beautiful springs;
Alter the flow of thought,
and the same mind on damage can binge;
The objective is not that of sin but does catharsis in the end win?
It all begins in the mind and ends in the mind. The human mind is truly an infinite realm. It has the power to create abstruse realities, and to destroy the same under the gentlest influence: Life, thought, memory, conditioning, learning, cognition, creation, imagination, insanity, abnormality, mental illness, addiction, dissociation . . . the list is endless. The question really is: What is normal, what is not? While we all know the answer—what is normal for someone may be abnormal for the other—these are things that are best understood when we simply let each other be! Albert Einstein once said, ‘Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.’ I now understand what went wrong in my life: I did the same things over and over again, expecting a different result.
What the mind creates each night in the drama of dreams, it liberates the same from the confines of everything when awake. Neither the dizzying speed of light nor the dark depths of history penetrate this labyrinth which can either be a magical or a haunted empire in itself.
However, such a wondrous thing like the human mind, which is its own cosmos, can also be cursed. While it bubbles with hope and promise, these can vanish in seconds if the mind allows the darker demons that lurk within to possess it.
And that is the tale of my mind; its destruction. A tale of how a malady possessed it to poison me and the lives of those around me. Where darkness engulfed both day and night, and the clouds had no silver lining.
The question now is: Can hope escape the darkness that has engulfed my mind, and resurrect itself to force me to fight another day? Will I emerge victorious over this malady? Or at least be aware of the destruction it causes? And will I battle it daily, step by step, making it vestigial?
I was born on the winter solstice of the year 1984, in Chandigarh, India. Being born on a date which has the shortest day and longest night of the year has an uncanny resonance with my life, as I have lived mostly in the dark. At present, though, I’m living the sunny part of my life after having managed to weather out a long night. Of course, a sunny day also means a cloudless day, without rain, but I have learnt to live with both the chill of the dark and the warmth of the day, sometimes with rain, sometimes without.
I was my parents’ second child. Their first, my sister, was a sickly baby who spent a lot of time in the hospital. She was saved with great difficulty by the doctors and by the efforts of my Papa and grandparents. When my mother found out that she was pregnant with me, a lot of people told her not to have the baby as my sister had just recovered and needed lots of care and attention. I wish she had heeded that advice and that I hadn’t been born at all. Didn’t someone once say: Never to have been born is the greatest boon of all! Alas, that was not to be, as my Papa said, ‘We have done so much to save one child that it would be a sin to be blessed with another and not have this blessing come to life.’
My father was an extraordinary man. He was five feet nine inches tall and partly bald, but he had beautifully chiseled features with a dimpled chin that accentuated his innocent-looking face. He had a moustache that was neatly trimmed, and it suited him well. What he lacked in appearance, he made up for with a sharp mind and acute intelligence. He was combative, and ready to engage on any topic picked from any subject or corner of the world. His mind was one of a genius, and he had his own eccentricities that people around him never fully comprehended. But I was fortunate to have had a father like him, and comprehend him enough.
My mother was a very beautiful, tall woman with radiant skin. She had long, dark hair and a fair complexion. Her features were so sharp.
My Papa, the genius who rose from a very humble background through education, made a career and life for himself. He was so fond of studying that he used to read under the streetlight. This landed him at the Indian Institute of Technology (IIT), India’s premier engineering institute, from which he emerged with graduate and postgraduate degrees, and gold medals. Thereafter, he worked briefly for the Tata group until someone bet him that he couldn’t crack the Union Public Service Commission (UPSC) exams. He took on the bet and cleared the exams in his first attempt, and got into the celebrated Indian Police Service (IPS). He was from Bihar and got his home cadre, but he did not want to serve there for reasons known only to him. He exchanged cadres with one of his batchmates, and that took him to Punjab.
When he was serving as Assistant Superintendent of Police (ASP) in Ludhiana, he saw my mother in her college. He had gone there to end a strike and immediately fell in love with her without even knowing her. Then and there, he made the decision to marry her. He tracked her down and persisted until her parents agreed. They were Punjabi Brahmins, and a huge cultural distance separated them from my Papa. Not just that, he even had to break off her engagement to someone else in order to win her hand from them.
My mother’s father was a politician. He was a Brahmin, and his grandmother was French. My maternal grandfather had blue eyes and was considered to be one of the most handsome politicians in Punjab. He was a member of the Indian National Congress (INC) and was a true freedom fighter. Sadly, wh
en I was around five years old, my grandfather was assassinated. The death of the truly humble and wonderful Nanaji, who always acted like a child with me (those are the only memories I have of him), shattered my grandmother, my mother, and her two sisters.
My Papa was a Kayastha from Bihar. Neither I, nor he, ever adhered to the archaic caste system; I simply mention this to describe my family background—a mix of Punjabi Brahmin, Bihari Kayastha, and a little bit of the French.
My mother was only eighteen when she got married to Papa. The day after they were engaged, she attended her cousin’s wedding, to which my Papa hadn’t been invited. He got angry, and argued with her, insisting that she couldn’t go without him. She was furious; she took off the engagement ring and threw it at him. My mother went without him to the wedding. Either passionate or obsessed, my Papa dressed up as a bandwala—a liveried member of the musical party hired for weddings and plays—and sat outside the wedding premises just to stare at my mother. He probably felt bad about the argument and wanted to make up for it.
My father was an extremist, a trait that I have inherited from him. If he drank, he would drink a lot; when he smoked, he would smoke a lot. At the same time, he also had the will power to quit both these habits in an instant. I am not sure whether he stopped drinking and smoking in order to marry my mother, or for his own health. I was in awe of his will power. I was also mesmerized by his intelligence, his knowledge of myriad subjects, and his overall confidence in achieving his goals, come what may.
I was also afraid of Papa. His admonishments would send shivers down my spine. He would meditate and practice yoga before breakfast each day. He was so passionate about yoga that at times, I would wake up in the middle of the night and see him contorted in some yogic position on our dining table, looking peaceful and serene.
The brilliance of men lies not in their wealth, power or fame but in their character and their passion for the people they love. In the end, that’s all that matters: The amount one has loved and been loved. It is, however, difficult to judge love between one’s parents. In the case of my parents, my mother’s assessment of the whole experience is very different from mine, or my father’s, or my sister’s.