Sender of Madness
Borderline Personality Disorder and my relationship with Hekate
This post is a complete re-write. Once upon a time, on my former blog, Hermekate, I wrote a post called Sender of Madness discussing the connections I see, live, and experience between the Goddess (really, Titan) Hekate and Borderline Personality Disorder. The thrust of the post was that of taking a stand for both Hekate and for sufferers of mental illness by publicly claiming and embracing my diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder, which is a severely stigmatizing condition. The hope was that by doing so, I could help dissolve that very stigma and perhaps inspire others to do something similar. I was thanked for writing that post by devotees of Hekate, by other people with BPD, and, of course, mostly by people who fit both categories (there were more than I expected, which may have been a mistake). I then deleted the blog without backing it up. That’s one of the posts I lost; I’m pretty sure it’s sitting on a hard drive in the next room over, but I’ve been unable to access the specific partition where the file would be found.
Since I recognize Hekate as my “Mother Goddess,” today is Mother’s Day, and this month is BPD Awareness Month, I felt like today would be a good day to sit down and do this re-write.
To choose Hekate (though it’s more accurate to say She chose me) as a “Mother Goddess” is a bit strange in that motherhood isn’t really one of Her primary aspects; Hekate bore no children mythologically. However, Her role as a psychopomp does bear some relationship with motherhood in the sense that She helps us to be “born” into the next world upon our death. This same role has a reflection, during corporeal life, in the task of ushering Her devotees through The Mysteries (historically, the Eleusinian Mysteries, but this can be understood in a more general sense nowadays). I am not the same person I was 10 years ago when I performed my self-dedication ceremony to Her in Bosque Farms, NM; hell, I’m not even using my birth name to write or engage online anymore, and I have Her to thank for it. Hekate’s “motherhood” is an “adoptive motherhood,” but that kind of motherhood is important for Initiates. As the old saying actually goes, “The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb;” Hekate and I entered into this relationship by choice, which invests it with a different type of significance than natural motherhood.
Oistroplaneia
In the ancient world, in addition to their proper names, deities were known by epithets, or special titles that described some specific aspect of their Being. Many epithets were shared by/applied to more than one deity, and so it is probably best for clarity’s sake to use a naming convention like “[Deity name] [Epithet].” In many classic evocations, the witch or magician is to call out to the deity by their name and by whichever epithets might be applicable to the magical objective they had in mind. The list for any given operation could be quite extensive.
I had connected with Hekate on many levels, the primary one being her aspect of Liminality. I absolutely thrive in the “in-between places,” the various “twilight states” where opposing qualities meet and blend together. I have pretty much never experienced the world in sheer “black and white” terms. Extremes, in my view, are relatively rare, and almost all is nuance; we simply choose not to recognize it most of the time as a way of nailing things down and feeling like we’re in control.
I’ve also struggled with mental illness my entire life, and I resonated with another aspect of Hekate’s liminal nature: The fact that she especially watches over marginalized and vulnerable people, like women and children (sadly), the homeless, and the insane. Hekate, being also strongly associated with the night as opposed to the day despite being such a liminal figure, also has a strong resonance with doing Shadow work: She leverages the light of Her torches to help us see and accept what dwells in the darkness of our very own souls.
As such, you can bet I was tickled pink when I first read (I don’t recall the source and have not been able to track down the specific epithet again) that one of Hekate’s Epithets translated to “Sender of Madness.” The closest I’ve been able to come to duplicating that finding is the epithet of “Oistroplaneia,” which translates to “Spreader of Madness” or “Causing the Wanderings of Madness” (many thanks to Mat Auryn for compiling this list of epithets, where I found it).
To learn that there was a whole-ass epithet dedicated to Hekate’s crazy-making prowess was, in a strange way, liberating and empowering. It was an idea I’d had more than once before, but not until I found it codified this way in Hekate’s historical lore did I feel “permitted” to consciously embrace it: The idea that madness could be divine. I was reminded, of course, of the concept of “fire in the head” I had once learned about in connection with the inspiration of Brighid, another Goddess often given a threefold form much like Hekate; that fire was held to be equally responsible for both poets and madmen (and maybe plenty of people who were both).
How the hell could madness be divine? A gift? You must be nuts to think that way, right? Well, maybe so. It has often been observed, however, that there is a fine line between genius and insanity. Joseph Campbell famously said, “The psychotic drowns in the same waters in which the mystic swims with delight.” There we go with liminal spaces again: The difference between “genius” on the one hand and “insanity” on the other is largely a matter of what we do with the same abnormal perceptions.
Embracing my BPD diagnosis, along with this Hekatean epithet, helped me to answer an inner calling and start applying myself to earning a degree so I could practice therapy some day. In that sense, it might be good that the old version of my post is lost, because in the time since I wrote it, I’ve actually taken classes in both “Abnormal Psychology” (which we are now calling “Biopsychosocial Disorders”) and specifically in Personality Disorders, and I now have a better understanding of BPD, which can only help the cause behind this post.
Every bit of this diagnosis is fully voluntary, not just my decision to openly carry it. It would be amusing how it came about if it weren’t so toxic on a personal level: My ex-wife, The Priestess and I—the Priestess of Hekate who first helped me connect with Her—had been having a fight and she suddenly spat at me, “My therapist says it sounds like you have Borderline Personality Disorder!” to which I replied, “That’s funny; my therapist said the same thing about you.” And it was true, he had.
How did I respond to this accusation?
I went and looked BPD up and said, “Holy shit, that does sound like me.”
Then I went to my therapist and asked him about it, point blank. Knowing I was in school studying psychology myself, he handled this by sitting down with me and the DSM-IV in my next session, going over the criteria one by one and discussing them together. At the end, we both agreed that I fit the diagnostic criteria, but he did not want to take the actual step of issuing the diagnosis to me in part because of the stigma, and in part because, in his experience, he had found that some patients lean on their diagnoses in a way that does more to keep it cemented in place than in a way that helps them recover. And I appreciated that take, it was fair. Empowered by that stance (rather liminal in and of itself, really), I decided to embrace the diagnosis, but more for the sake of others, and to also work toward recovery.
What’s In A Name?
“Borderline Personality Disorder” is an interesting name, and it’s also a controversial one for a few reasons (though the main one seems to be the simple fact that the name “borderline personality disorder” has developed such a stigma, and this has more to do with how ill-understood the condition was when it was first named than it does with any intrinsic meaning of the term ‘borderline;” now we understand it better, it’s a lot less scary and more manageable, so this is basically a “re-branding.”)
“Borderline” is also a bit of an intense description; it does suggest being just on the edge of something, and that something sounds like it could be ominous. Its liminal nature, which we’ve already discussed, invokes a sense of the ambiguous and thus, to certain minds, of the dangerous.
It turns out the name does have a specific, fairly technical meaning, and that meaning captures a lot about BPD. The “borderline” in question is the line between a “mere” neurosis (a mental illness without organic cause, and thus one that is theoretically treatable by making some adjustments) and a psychosis (a complete disconnection from reality, such as we would see in schizophrenia, and thus one that is thought to be congenital). It’s more severe than mood disorders like depression or bipolar disorder, but less severe than full-on schizophrenia. It is likely that this ambiguous classification ironically makes it more frightening to the layperson than schizophrenia even though it’s less severe, because the nuance and the difference between the two is a mysterious matter to most people.
As this article at Verywellmind states:
According to the DSM-5, in order to be diagnosed with BPD, a person must meet certain criteria.15 These include the following:
A pervasive pattern of instability in interpersonal relationships, self image, and emotions
Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment
Impulsivity that is self-damaging
Recurrent suicidal behavior or self-harm
Chronic feelings of emptiness
Transient stress related to alterations in reality
Someone with BPD may not experience every symptom. However, according to the DSM-5, a person will exhibit five out of the nine specific criteria listed to receive a diagnosis.11
Given the symptoms listed above and given the typical, sensationalistic, “clickbait” treatment of BPD by some sources, Borderline Personality Disorder does have a jagged reputation and those with the diagnosis are sometimes thought to be dangerous. That, too, is nuanced; I mean, anyone can be dangerous under the right circumstances, and yeah, someone with such problems with mood instability, impulsivity and anger is technically more dangerous than the average bear, but this is mitigated so much by simple compassion and understanding that it’s not even funny.
The difference between a person with BPD and strong therapeutic support (not to mention the understanding and support of friends and family) and a person with poor support can be the difference between a dangerously unstable person and a pillar of their community. BPD can be misdiagnosed as schizophrenia or bipolar I if it’s untreated and the patient is in dire straits. However, while BPD was once thought to be untreatable, we now have a therapeutic modality called Dialectical Behavioral Therapy that has been found very effective in treating BPD; and it was created by Marsha M. Linehan, who suffers from BPD herself. This is probably the best proof of all that managed, treated BPD is fine, and the people who suffer from it can actually enrich the lives of those around them if we are properly supported.
This raises what has, in recent times, come to hold what I regard as the most important answer to the question of what “borderline” means (at least, from the perspective of the patient): The borderline between illness and recovery.
There’s a powerful scene in the film Girl, Interrupted (I really should read the book, shouldn’t I?) in which the protagonist, Susanna Kaysen, has a fateful meeting with Dr. Sonia Wick, head psychiatrist of the mental hospital where Susanna is a patient. The last time I watched it, I cried because I recognized the precipice where Susanna stood.
Dr. Wick asks Susanna how she feels about the fact that her progress in treatment had plateaued; she responds that she’s “ambivalent,” thinking the word a synonym of “apathetic;” and in response, Dr. Wick levels with Susanna, obviously a smart person, but egregiously mistaken, at the moment, in her understanding. She edifies Susanna, explaining that the word actually means the opposite of apathetic: That it describes someone who cares very much, but is torn between two possibilities. This scene itself captures so much of what BPD is like, and I’ve had my own similar moments in therapy when a doctor started speaking to me more as an equal than as a “patient,” a subordinate, and opened the door just a little bit into the normally esoteric world of psychiatric treatment and diagnosis. Normally, there is a lot that these doctors consider and weigh in darkness, without ever telling the patient about it, often because a mental patient is considered unable to deal with the complexities themselves. We are often “talked down to” and “talked over,” such that when a psychiatrist speaks this plainly, it’s usually because they have faith in the patient.
Dr. Wick calmly explains the real definition of “ambivalent” in a way that soon dovetails with Susanna’s prognosis for treatment: In no uncertain terms, Dr. Wick lets Susanna know that her treatment could go in one of two very different directions: If she were to apply herself and dig deep, she might leave she hospital and live something like a normal life as a member of society; if not, she might never see the outside of those walls.
That, to me, perfectly captures the true “borderline” experienced by those with this diagnosis: It’s like I described above, the condition is just intense and confounding enough that, left untreated, it can be on par with schizophrenia in terms of severity and resistance to treatment; with comprehensive support and also a firm resolution to recover, people with BPD can live fairly normal (albeit rather “spicy”) lives.
I want more people to understand that latter part of having BPD.
By embracing my diagnosis of BPD, I am standing up for people with mental illness; I can use my words to express things many people have trouble with, to shed light on this condition. I can help support others with the condition. I can accomplish things that benefit society.
I am also standing up for magical people, for Pagans, witches, magicians, and other sorts who dabble in Dark Arts that, all by itself, has been reason enough to lock some people away in asylums, or worse.
I am also standing up for women, and for a broader, more diverse understanding of gender. Why? Because traditionally, BPD has overwhelmingly been a “woman’s disease,” in the same sense that autism as been “a man’s disease”…and I think those two facts are very closely related. In many cases, we need to be more careful in order to distinguish: Is it really “BPD” at all, or is it perhaps autism that is manifesting some really extreme symptoms because it’s not being recognized for what it is?
By re-writing and sharing this article today, I am also taking a firm step in that more positive direction, toward recovery.
Look, BPD is some rough stuff. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Among other things, we who have BPD have to carry a lot of guilt for the drama and the pain we can cause others through our own frailties and flaws. In a way, it’s kind of fitting that this post arrives on Mother’s Day and taps that theme; although I did say above that Hekate is not strictly a mother according to myths, some sources do identify Her with other figures who were mothers, including Krataeis, mother of the sea monster Scylla from The Odyssey:
II) SCYLLA (SKYLLA)
Hekate was sometimes identified with Krataeis (Crataeis), the mother of the sea-monster Skylla (Scylla). She was also titled Skylakagetis (Leader of the Dogs), connecting her with the name of the monster.
Apollonius Rhodius, Argonautica 4. 827 ff (trans. Rieu) (Greek epic C3rd B.C.) :
"[Kirke (Circe) addresses her niece Medea :] `Nor let them [the Argonauts] go too near the hateful den of Ausonian Skylla (Scylla), that wicked monster borne to Phorkys (Phorcys) by night-wandering Hekate, whom men call Kratais (Cratais).'"Source: Theoi.
Nonetheless, though Hekate be an adoptive “mother” in my eyes to folks with BPD, what I want to make most clear of all is that people who suffer from Borderline Personality Disorder are not monsters.
Hekate and other Dark Goddesses like Her remind us that we can make the most out of any circumstance, and that even the worst of them can serve our growth and help us to be a light for others in the darkness.