The clouds were big and fluffy today as I did my walking meditation to the recycle bin. I’m learning more about borderline personality disorder, which seems like what I’ve been suffering from all these years, but I’m not qualified to diagnose that — aside from living it. If it quacks like a duck, and all that.
BPD may have something to do with my fascination with the structure of the mind. When you’re lost in the labyrinth of your own mind, there’s ample opportunity to study the architecture.
Let’s say, for the sake of argument, the ego is something like a mask we wear, and by mask, I mean the face other people see when they look at you, and the one you see in the mirror, and the accompanying thoughts, feelings, and beliefs you have about yourself and others.
When people see you, they have thoughts about you, and you have thoughts about them. When you look in the mirror, you have thoughts about yourself, and thoughts about those thoughts, ad infinitum.
Now, from what I’ve learned about BPD, and my own life, there’s something peculiar about this ego-mask. It’s like I realize I’m wearing a mask, and I can see that everyone else is, too, but no one’s saying anything about it, and it FREAKS me out.
Sometimes it seems like a raw deal to have a dysfunctional ego, but I don’t think the ego is all there is to us, anyway.