Life on the Border/Cutter's Way/Crazy Wets Its Pants

I recently discovered that I have a borderline personality. I discovered
this through the time honored approach of self-reflection and self-
diagnosis. I was talking to a high school counselor the other day (a very
interesting woman) about the kind of problems kids have today that
they've always had, but that were not recognized. One such problem is
called "cutting."

Cutting is done mostly by girls though a lot of boys do it too. I used to
do it when I was in high school and had to see a shrink about it. That
was in 84 and they just called it self mutilation, a failed suicide attempt
and said you had a personality disorder so let's move on. Today,
according to this counselor, most cutters are recognized as having
borderline personalities.

A borderline personality isn't neurotic or psychotic. The old psychiatric
maxim goes like this: Neurotics build castles in the sky, psychotics move
into them. Apparently, borderline personalities build castles in the sky
and then try to get other people to move into them.

People like this are always testing things, people, relationships, the nature
of reality, truth. They can't handle their emotions and cutting gives them
a sense of control. From my own experience, this is spot on and not just
theory. I would typically do it when I was despondent and after wards I
didn't just calm down, I felt in control. I attribute this to endorphins or
something primal in the act of drawing ones own blood. It says this is my
body and I control what happens to it. I can hurt myself more than anyone
else.

Case in point. I knew this crazy fucker in high school who wasn't tough,
but he discovered that if people thought he was crazy, they'd leave him
alone. Then he realized he could unnerve or bully people with his crazy
act. He'd tell people about how crazy he was and then when he wanted
to put the whammy on you, he'd stare at you. He made me squirm one
night with his bullshit after we had a falling out. We were working at this
hamburger joint called Sam's. He was working the grill and was doing fries.
We just had our little run in the night before. I was out of control, went
home and cut up my arm pretty good. The following night, we're working
together and this cat's eye fucking me for over an hour, giving me the crazy
vibe and I was made uncomfortable. By this time, I just wanted to be left
alone.

Now this is where "crazy" runs smack into CRAZY and then wets it's
fucking pants.

After about an hour of getting the evil eye. I put my fry basket down and
looked right back at the "crazy" fucker. Then I walked right up to him,
showed him my arm with the red, infected fresh scabs running up and
down it and said, "If I'd do this to myself, what do you think I'd do to you."

In the background, the sound of gently falling urine.

Not only did I not get eye fucked again that night, the kid didn't come
near me for years. We're actually kind of friends these days and every
once in a while, I'll bring this story up or I'll be asked to retell it much
to the amusement of all. Even "crazy" digs it.

But the whole testing thing is what really convinced me that this
borderline personality profile fits me to a tee. Whenever someone
describes a type of behavior that is totally me, it's like a moment of
clarity. I would not have ever described myself as testing anything,
but I really do. Friends, family, coworkers, strangers... and they all fail.