The Pain of Radical Acceptance
The pain will never go away.
I know, I know. Deep down inside I knew this. I write and write about this and that… trying to convince myself otherwise; that there was, indeed, a higher road. I tell myself, We can be remarkable despite our illness. It sounded noble and beautiful and hopeful. It was my battle cry; a way to turn mental illness up over its head and declare that, hey, there’s no looking back. How desperately I wanted to believe this. It was clean, pretty and neatly tied up in a bow.
And then life happens. BPD happens. The two collide and you find yourself back in that old familiar place: complicated, messy, and above all — painful.
In my hearts of hearts I want so desperately to escape how the pain feels. I still hold on to the idea that maybe it will disappear. That, in time, therapy will make it go away and prescription medications will christen me anew. My life will start all over and all the hurt, the mistakes, the self-hatred, the shame — it would all disappear. You have brief glimpses of that — moments of living like everyone else in the world. There’s contentment. There’s peace. You finally feel normal.
But as it is with borderline personality disorder, the feeling came in a wave and I was left in the wake of an empty shore, vulnerable to images, urges and actions I’d rather not share with my therapist.
And just when you think you can’t handle the pain anymore, you start looking again. Something to convince yourself to keep on going. Something to hang on to when it got tough, when it got messy, when you don’t know if you can get through it. Something that will make it worth all of this suffering.
Maybe making the pain disappear isn’t the point.
I grieve tonight and rejoice at the same time. The burden of doing away with pain and the urges towards myself don’t have to go away in order for me to participate in life. I can accept these very difficult, quite confusing, intensely emotional parts of myself and still, walk on. I can choose to keep pushing forward — even if the pain will never completely go away. That’s radical acceptance in a nutshell.
The pain will never fully go away and frankly, I cannot wait until then. There is too much to do in the time that we have here to wait for it to go away in order for my life to begin.
“Maybe making the pain disappear isn’t the point”
- I’m still learning to apply this statement… Having heard it from my therapist a good month ago, it’s surely difficult to apply when you’re in the situation.
“Maybe making the pain disappear isn’t the point”
- I’m still learning to apply this statement… Having heard it from my therapist a good month ago, it’s surely difficult to apply when you’re in the situation.
Sometimes statements – the simple and profound ones – take on a meaning that encompasses life itself. That is what this statement does, for me:
“Maybe making the pain disappear isn’t the point” – of life, at all.
It would make a lot more sense if this was the case, because it appear that life involves pain. No one gets a pass.
I want to thank you, Amanda, for your courage, your honesty, and the inspiration you give me. I’m new here! To the blog and to the idea of BPD (not the experience.) I’m thankful to have sisters like you to look up to.
@learningtoliv @eleanor thank you so much for your comments. I know, this is such a hard one, accepting our pains, but Marsha Linehan says it best:
Pain is pain. Suffering is pain plus non-acceptance. So if you take pain, add non-acceptance you end up with suffering. Radical acceptance transforms suffering into ordinary pain. There are three parts to radical acceptance. The first part is accepting that reality is what it is. The second part is accepting that the event or situation causing you pain has a cause. The third part is accepting life can be worth living even with painful events in it.
Sometimes statements – the simple and profound ones – take on a meaning that encompasses life itself. That is what this statement does, for me:
“Maybe making the pain disappear isn’t the point” – of life, at all.
It would make a lot more sense if this was the case, because it appear that life involves pain. No one gets a pass.
I want to thank you, Amanda, for your courage, your honesty, and the inspiration you give me. I’m new here! To the blog and to the idea of BPD (not the experience.) I’m thankful to have sisters like you to look up to.
@learningtoliv @eleanor thank you so much for your comments. I know, this is such a hard one, accepting our pains, but Marsha Linehan says it best:
Pain is pain. Suffering is pain plus non-acceptance. So if you take pain, add non-acceptance you end up with suffering. Radical acceptance transforms suffering into ordinary pain. There are three parts to radical acceptance. The first part is accepting that reality is what it is. The second part is accepting that the event or situation causing you pain has a cause. The third part is accepting life can be worth living even with painful events in it.
um, on the not profound end of things, how do I put a picture with my comment so I’m not a white silhouette on a grey background?
um, on the not profound end of things, how do I put a picture with my comment so I’m not a white silhouette on a grey background?
yes, this is a very powerful quote. When I was in the treatment center in California, I came into DBT skills class right on the Radical Acceptance unit. We actually watched a video of Lineham to introduce the topic! Something like Mr. Rogers if he was an auntie or a mom and he threw in a (very dialetical) dose of “tough love” right alongside that calm voice and nurturing presence. “I love you and this is just the way it is – and life can still be worth living.” So important.
Anyhow, when I began to look at the causes of the things that were really eating me up at that time, somehow it took the fire out of the pain. The pain is still there, but if I don’t fight it, its true, I don’t suffer.
On that note, so interesting how you have externalized “the fight” – makes me think of BPD almost like an auto-immune disorder of the emotional system! The fight is there – it has just turned inward, we’ve turned it in on ourselves. Turning it outward – its not a curse, to have this much passion, even to feel this much pain. It’s just how we direct things – and that mindful ability, sometimes, to just wait it out. Radical acceptance is such an important piece of all of this.
yes, this is a very powerful quote. When I was in the treatment center in California, I came into DBT skills class right on the Radical Acceptance unit. We actually watched a video of Lineham to introduce the topic! Something like Mr. Rogers if he was an auntie or a mom and he threw in a (very dialetical) dose of “tough love” right alongside that calm voice and nurturing presence. “I love you and this is just the way it is – and life can still be worth living.” So important.
Anyhow, when I began to look at the causes of the things that were really eating me up at that time, somehow it took the fire out of the pain. The pain is still there, but if I don’t fight it, its true, I don’t suffer.
On that note, so interesting how you have externalized “the fight” – makes me think of BPD almost like an auto-immune disorder of the emotional system! The fight is there – it has just turned inward, we’ve turned it in on ourselves. Turning it outward – its not a curse, to have this much passion, even to feel this much pain. It’s just how we direct things – and that mindful ability, sometimes, to just wait it out. Radical acceptance is such an important piece of all of this.
I dont know i have bpd pain doesn’t go away but i think over time it goes always because you forget all about it and concentrate on something else that is going on around you. i think forgiveness sometimes has to come into play to
I dont know i have bpd pain doesn’t go away but i think over time it goes always because you forget all about it and concentrate on something else that is going on around you. i think forgiveness sometimes has to come into play to
Beautifully written, amazing description. Thanks, Amanda.
Beautifully written, amazing description. Thanks, Amanda.