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4.01 AVERAGE
4.01 AVERAGE
The reason I'm giving this book three stars instead of four is because I felt it was a bit info-dumpy. As someone who's been diagnosed with BPD and who knows what DBT is, I feel like it could have been explained better to people who are less familiar with it without all the direct definitions and clinical talk. Even though I'm extremely interested in the topic of BPD and DBT and other therapies, my eyes glazed over whenever the author started describing these things because she did it in such a boring way. I also felt that the book ended too abruptly, without much explanation of how she actually got "better," so to speak. I get that there was Buddhism and therapy and all that, but as someone with BPD, I would like to know how those things actually helped her heal. However, the parts of the book where she talked about her life experiences were overall very interesting to read about and be able to relate to. I'm grateful that this book exists, as it can be hard to find books involving people with BPD.
emotional
reflective
tense
fast-paced
challenging
dark
emotional
informative
sad
slow-paced
This book made me start a DBT program and feel comfortable with it, so I'm grateful to it for that. She is a great writer and makes her story engaging and accessible even for those who might not be able to relate to the same mental health concerns. I would highly recommend this for loved ones of people with BPD to be able to better understand the emotional/thought processes that come with BPD. For those who have mental illness themselves, this book can provide a lot of information and hope, but would be too intense for people who have not yet developed sufficient coping mechanisms to deal with the triggering content. Definitely check the content warnings carefully and make sure you have support before reading.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Mental illness, Self harm, Suicidal thoughts
Moderate: Toxic relationship
The opening chapter contains a very graphic, detailed description of self-harm and the associated emotions. Tread lightly. I was in a fairly stable mental health position when I read this book and I still found the beginning quite disturbing and difficult to manage my reaction to (although it was also validating and I understand why the author needed to include it).
emotional
hopeful
informative
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
Funny, challenging and ultimately rewarding, the chance to read and connect with the experiences of someone with BPD is immensely powerful. Kiera's experiences resonated with me on so many levels, and I want to shove this book at everyone in my life to make them understand BPD and learn about it in a hopeful way.
After reading this book, I am reminded that some books have a pretty narrow target audience. It is my feeling that this one can offer much more to the borderline reader than to someone who hasn't got this disorder. As newly diagnosed with a borderline personality, reading The Buddha and the Borderline felt to a great extent like a revelation: I found myself highlighting page after page, because it felt like reading about my own life (especially those long years when I'd see a doctor after doctor trying to convince them that there is something more going on than my persistent depression); I found that it helped me put my life experience into perspective, understanding that what felt like a lifetime of blows from all possible directions was actually a massive perspective-distortion issue typical for the disorder, and changeable.
At the same time, I can see how people who know borderlines but don't have the disorder themselves can feel frustrated by the book. The Kiera in the book doesn't apologize, hasn't finished her journey (she leaves off right as she first makes an effort to practice Buddhism with any regularity), is still too much in the epicenter of her own experiences in order to connect emotionally with anyone outside, especially with people not having the disorder. If she sees the suffering of those around her, she doesn't report on it.
Then again, they are not the target audience; it is those who live in their own epicentres of skewed perspective. It's a message to them (us) that reads, "Your experience is not unique. There is a reason it happened, it's a medical reason, and I found a something that seems to be work in calming the shockwaves at least a bit, so you probably will find it too." I don't think it is a fault that it doesn't appeal to both side. There are books targeted at those around the BPD patients. I and other people with borderline tend to find these books equally frustrating, feeling that they portray us as unpredictable monsters. Yet, they have their place and they serve a purpose too - validating the suffering of those whose closest ones have BPD, and helping them make sense of the mess and eventually heal.
At the same time, I can see how people who know borderlines but don't have the disorder themselves can feel frustrated by the book. The Kiera in the book doesn't apologize, hasn't finished her journey (she leaves off right as she first makes an effort to practice Buddhism with any regularity), is still too much in the epicenter of her own experiences in order to connect emotionally with anyone outside, especially with people not having the disorder. If she sees the suffering of those around her, she doesn't report on it.
Then again, they are not the target audience; it is those who live in their own epicentres of skewed perspective. It's a message to them (us) that reads, "Your experience is not unique. There is a reason it happened, it's a medical reason, and I found a something that seems to be work in calming the shockwaves at least a bit, so you probably will find it too." I don't think it is a fault that it doesn't appeal to both side. There are books targeted at those around the BPD patients. I and other people with borderline tend to find these books equally frustrating, feeling that they portray us as unpredictable monsters. Yet, they have their place and they serve a purpose too - validating the suffering of those whose closest ones have BPD, and helping them make sense of the mess and eventually heal.
Fifteen years ago I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. Like many similar diagnoses, I'd had the symptoms most, if not all, of my life, but had finally been given a name and understanding of what it was that possessed me. After my diagnosis, I studied BPD extensively for a few years and I got better. That's not to say I was healed from BPD, in fact, I was far from a “full recovery,” but I began to understand some of my behaviors and triggers. I also started individual therapy—this didn't go so well and eventually I quit. Somewhere in my studies, probably four or five years after my diagnosis, I first heard of Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT); it was touted as the best cure for BPD, but I had my doubts (and fears), so I continued with my self-therapy and studies. Along the way, I plateaued. I didn't want to admit it, but I did. All forward motion came to a stop. I'd done everything I could on my own and I still was an anxious ball of fear wrapped in a lovable fury. I decided it was time to check out DBT—and then I dragged my feet another couple years. Finally, things were so bad and I was so hopeless that I had only two choices: self-destruction or DBT. With some reluctance, I chose DBT. To celebrate my initiation into group therapy, I decided to start reading this book.
The Buddha & The Borderline is merely one person's story of living with Borderline Personality Disorder. As I've read other similar books about BPD, I've come to learn that while the symptoms and internal feelings are identical, the way they are manifested may be wildly different. Van Gelder's experience is very different from mine, but what drives her is very familiar. The thing I liked most about this memoir is that it really shows the progress Van Gelder makes. Other BPD stories and memoirs tend to place the focus on the illness, leaving a chapter to two for the “road to recovery.” Van Gelder's approach is show her gradual improvement throughout the book. Yes, she's still struggling in the end, but as soon as she receives her diagnosis in an early chapter, she is off and running, searching for help and being willing to take it.
If The Buddha & The Borderline failed in any regard to reach me, it was simply that I felt Van Gelder took out some of the magic from her journey. One chapter we see a broken Van Gelder enter therapy, we get an overview of what happens inside, and then months pass and Van Gelder is doing better. These jumps in the path of the author's recovery happen frequently. I wanted to know more about that internal struggles she faced. That's not to say Van Gelder completely glosses over her struggles, not at all, but there are certainly times I would have liked to have known more about her thought process and less about the people in her surrounding circles (therapists, boyfriends, etc).
Overall, The Buddha & The Borderline is a typical memoir in many ways and probably one that would only interest those concerned with mental illness. There are select chapters, however, where Van Gelder really shows her talents as a writer. When she's not simply regurgitating facts, when she's digging deep within her and bringing her darkest moments and thoughts to light, she is a very talented and magnificent writer. It is for these moments alone that this book rises above many other similar books.
The Buddha & The Borderline is merely one person's story of living with Borderline Personality Disorder. As I've read other similar books about BPD, I've come to learn that while the symptoms and internal feelings are identical, the way they are manifested may be wildly different. Van Gelder's experience is very different from mine, but what drives her is very familiar. The thing I liked most about this memoir is that it really shows the progress Van Gelder makes. Other BPD stories and memoirs tend to place the focus on the illness, leaving a chapter to two for the “road to recovery.” Van Gelder's approach is show her gradual improvement throughout the book. Yes, she's still struggling in the end, but as soon as she receives her diagnosis in an early chapter, she is off and running, searching for help and being willing to take it.
If The Buddha & The Borderline failed in any regard to reach me, it was simply that I felt Van Gelder took out some of the magic from her journey. One chapter we see a broken Van Gelder enter therapy, we get an overview of what happens inside, and then months pass and Van Gelder is doing better. These jumps in the path of the author's recovery happen frequently. I wanted to know more about that internal struggles she faced. That's not to say Van Gelder completely glosses over her struggles, not at all, but there are certainly times I would have liked to have known more about her thought process and less about the people in her surrounding circles (therapists, boyfriends, etc).
Overall, The Buddha & The Borderline is a typical memoir in many ways and probably one that would only interest those concerned with mental illness. There are select chapters, however, where Van Gelder really shows her talents as a writer. When she's not simply regurgitating facts, when she's digging deep within her and bringing her darkest moments and thoughts to light, she is a very talented and magnificent writer. It is for these moments alone that this book rises above many other similar books.