Many people living with mental illnesses - be it borderline personality disorder, depression (...) - quickly learn to build a facade, to put on a mask that seems to hide everything . On the outside they appear calm, composed, sometimes even happy, but deep inside something is screaming so loudly that it drowns out the noise of the world. Sometimes this inner chaos is so all-encompassing that it is difficult to follow conversations, as if you are walking through thick fog while everyone else is standing in clear sunlight.
For me, fashion has become a kind of armor in recent years, a kind of invisible shield behind which I hide. A bright pink T-shirt, bright blonde or pink hair, exaggerated jewelry or a sparkling watch - I don't wear all these things, even the flashiest sneakers, just because. They are chosen consciously, and although they are usually bought impulsively when the price is right, they all do the same thing: they distract. The people around me only see the colorful, the flashy, the funny. They ask how I am, but don't dig deeper. Instead, they think: "He must be full of self-confidence if he wears something like that." But that is just an illusion, a facade that I struggle to maintain because it helps me hide the deep wounds.
But this strategy is exhausting. It takes an infinite amount of energy. There are days when I just can't manage to put on this armor anymore. On days like that, I prefer to stay at home, hide in my own world, because I don't have the energy to keep up the show. And no matter how strong the armor may seem, it is fragile, unstable. A single word, a fleeting glance, an unexpected feeling can be enough to make it collapse. Then I'm left alone again, canceling meetings - always apologizing, always ashamed.
But life out there often forces you to wear this mask. How do you tell someone that you were just standing in the room bleeding, your body covered in cuts, and at the same time try to have a normal conversation? Especially when the other person isn't feeling well either. How do you maintain a relationship when you sink so deep into the darkness in moments like these?
In the long run, this cannot work out well. If you can only show your true self behind closed doors, in the safe confines of a clinic or with a therapist, you lose yourself. Especially when your soul is crumbling while everyone around you is smiling and saying that you are making great progress. It is a fine line between the need to finally tell the truth, the fear of being judged, the paralyzing shame, the urge to protect others and the desperate attempt to convince everyone that "everything is OK".
Sometimes I am amazed at how even people who are close to me believe this masquerade. Maybe it is because they themselves do not have the courage to look behind the facade. Maybe they are afraid to see the darkness that I try so hard to hide.
