The Newman women have long pickled themselves in paranoia’s sour waters. When the Queen died, my Granny, skeptical that her body was actually in its coffin, told me during a phone call: “They keep saying ‘the coffin’ and not ‘her body’ or ‘the Queen.’ I’m suspicious.” The paranoia became more potent with each generation. My mother was convinced that my brother and I would die in childhood, stolen from her arms by illness or infection. I spent much of the previous few weeks certain my partner wanted me dead.
Paranoia, defined as unjustified suspicion or mistrust of other people or their actions, is a symptom of borderline personality disorder (BPD). About a quarter of people with BPD experience delusions. It’s not a symptom I experience frequently, my others tend to overshadow it, but when I do it’s easy to drown in the feeling. Here are a few strategies I use to keep my head above water:
Assess vulnerabilities
Whenever a feeling becomes too powerful, the first thing I do is gauge my vulnerabilities. Am I eating right? Sleeping enough? Exercising? Minimizing mood-altering substances? Coming down with an illness? A deficiency in any of these areas can exacerbate my BPD symptoms. But that wasn’t the culprit behind my recent bout of paranoia. Instead, a wicked case of PMS was the cause of my vulnerability—hormone fluctuations and imbalances impact mental health. This knowledge didn’t change the strength of my symptoms but it did help me recognize that my feelings didn’t fit the facts of my circumstances.
Chase down the logical conclusion
Strong feelings shape thoughts. Unpacking my paranoia, and identifying any underlying assumptions, a cognitive behavioural therapy technique (CBT), helped me reframe thoughts that were misaligned with the facts of the situation. I asked myself what fear hid behind my feelings. In this case, it was a constant concern—abandonment. I assumed my partner was trying to break me through unspoken tests and intentional thoughtlessness since the pittance I make as a writer hindered my ability to move out. I was sure he had grown tired of me and wanted me gone. Death was the fastest way to achieve this.
It sounded ridiculous when I framed it so plainly. My partner didn’t take a three-month course about BPD, support me when I couldn’t pay the bills, and weather more emotional storms than anyone else in my life just to have it all end in my death. The assumption that he was plotting my suicide—so absurd it was almost laughable. A reasonable human, my partner would simply speak to me if he wanted to end things. His stalwart support was evidence he would handle a breakup with the compassion and generosity inherent to his character. I would survive even if my fear of abandonment was realized.
Talk to your support network
I have a shit poker face. I can’t walk around, believing someone wants me dead, without it bleeding into my reactions and behaviours. I was tense and on edge, quick to cry or panic, and willing to unquestionably obey while paranoia haunted me. My partner could sense something was amiss. I told him about my assumptions and fears rather than letting my feelings estrange us. It eased the growing tension between us and reinforced that my mistrust was unjustified.
Meditate
I had identified my vulnerabilities and underlying fears, chased down the logical conclusions, and leaned on my support network but paranoia’s vicious whispers continued to fill my ears. The best way to get a break from these intrusive feelings while I waited for my delusions to pass was to empty my head of thoughts altogether through meditation. These brief periods of thoughtlessness gave me a sense of calm and peace that I had been lacking.
The November moon waxed, my period arrived, and the tides of paranoia receded. My intrusive thoughts faded until they were inaudible. I had stayed afloat.
I have found ashwaganda root helpful for hormone regulation. Another woman with bpd recommended it awhile back. I’ve found it helps me, even if it’s mostly placebo.