Long before I even understood the word “Mental Illness”, I was acutely aware that I was living in chaos.
The world around me was a jumbled mess of people and experiences, that I couldn’t seem to order or make any sense of, no matter how hard I tried.

Take a moment and Imagine your mind is your home…
Every piece of information is a book, every memory a souvenir, or a photograph, every thought about yourself is a piece of clothing, your view of the world is represented by your windows…

I can assume that those items have their place. Books on shelves; you know where they are when you need them. Souvenirs and trinkets displayed, proudly retelling your stories. Clothes are hung in your wardrobe, well fitting items, positive thoughts.

Now imagine that your home has been turned upside down…
Instead of the peaceful and ordered sanctuary you know and love; your belongings are strewn across the floor. Pages from books whirl in the breeze, your ornaments and souvenirs lay scattered and smashed, your clothes, every single nasty item you ever owned, are heaped in little piles in door ways, on furniture. Dusty, cluttered and filling with rubbish, the home begins to fester.

You make an effort to order the chaos- trying to glue back together the pieces of your memories, throwing out nasty thoughts that make you feel bad, re-ordering your information; glueing the pages back in.

Quietly, though, someone is creeping in through the back door. They’re invisible, you cant and wont see them. But you watch, in horror, as they pull the books back off the shelves, open your rubbish bags to reclaim the nasty old clothes, and stamp on your newly fixed ornaments…

For as long as I remember, my mental home felt like this (my physical home wasn’t much different, but that’s another story!). I would make a decision, a goal, and work towards it whole heartedly. But someone would run through the rooms, throw my things around and push my progress backwards; I would descend back into chaos. 

I was determined from a young age to become an artist, for example.
I took the right steps: I attended art college, I worked hard, for a while. But soon I became discontent and restless; my desire to become an artist was no less, but the chaos in my head seemed to take over, and, so strong was the mental block forming, I was often unable to attend college for days at a time.
Right back from an early age,  I indulged in behaviours I have no logical reasoning for. These contradictions only added more confusion…

Why would I drop out of college when I want my career to work? 
Why would I ‘choose’ to enter and stay in the sex industry when I didnt enjoy it?
Why would I repeatedly go back to relationships I was unhappy, or unsafe in? 

Was I two people? 
Was there one part of me that wanted this, and one part determined to destroy my best efforts? 

Questions with no answers, and a constant battle to keep my mind in order ensued.
Until this week. 

Im currently under the care of the NHS Community Mental Health Team in my area. And this week was a psychiatrists meeting ive achingly waited 2 months for.

Using dramatically less metaphors, I explained all this to the lovely doctor. I explained the need for affection, the desperate need to be liked, the contradictions, impulsiveness, drugs, prostitution, the struggle to hold down a job or stay in education, the desperate feeling that I have no Idea who I am, and constant action to ‘define’ myself.

“What do you think you have?” She asked me 

I mentioned that the only Mental Illness that resonates is Borderline Personality Disorder. 

And? I was right!
After being informed my self diagnosis was accurate, and having this confirmed by a professional, I was, unexpectedly left with the strangest feeling; reason, logic, and no more chaos.

All the illogical and irrational things I had done, suddenly had motive or cause.

Destructive behaviours were explained by impulsiveness and a lack of regard for my own safety.
Returning to toxic relationships through fear of being alone stems from acute fear of abandonment, rooted in infantile events.
Constant redefining and searching for “myself” is caused by deep rooted identity issues…

Understanding of an issue is the key to solving it. While I still believed I had simple “security issues”, I couldn’t see the depth of the problem, or what other behaviours that problem was causing. While those illogical things haven’t suddenly become logical, I understand now, why there is an irrational response.
And I can deal with it. Rather than trying to fix the symptoms, I can treat the cause. Until the cause is dealt with, its like trying to build a house without foundations.

All along, it was me turning the mental house to chaos… 
I would sleep walk through the rooms and pull apart the progress,subconsciously knowing that until the foundations were right, nothing else would be.

Now, with care and understanding, I work with the other side of myself. Im ordering chaos by refurbishing the house: Securing the foundations. De-cluttering the dead weight. Painting in calming colours.

Its going to be a big project, DIY from the start. I’m may get help from outside sources when needed. It may take 30 years, but the hard graft it took to build will ensure me, myself and I have a happy and harmonious mental home for the future.