“Saadia’s poor response to stress and difficulty managing her emotions frequently will impact her ability to remain focused on her academics and cause her to fall behind…”

This excerpt from my individualized education plan (IEP) described my level of performance as a high school senior. An IEP is a legal document developed for a student who receives special education.

The word “disability” evokes the image of a person with a physical abnormality, but invisible, emotional disabilities exist—my high school experience is the painful proof.

Despite graduating in four years like everybody else, I attended five different high schools in that time. I started high school at the prestigious Boston University Academy. After just about a month, I confessed to my mom that I had been cutting my arms and legs, and she took me straight to the hospital. I couldn’t articulate what had driven me to hurt myself like that, which made it even scarier for both of us.

After some time in treatment, I tried a few other school environments including a therapeutic boarding school and the special education program at my public high school. Unfortunately, none of these environments really worked for me.

Nothing changed the fact that I felt like I had been buried alive in emotional pain. Despite hundreds of conversations with mental health professionals, no one seemed to understand how badly I was hurting on the inside.

As it turned out, there was a reason for that: I was suffering from borderline personality disorder (BPD), which is widely considered the most psychologically painful mental illness.

Marsha Linehan famously described this pain, saying that people with BPD are like people with third-degree burns all over their bodies. Lacking “emotional skin,” they feel agony at the slightest touch or movement.

I am sharing this personal story to illustrate how I was genuinely debilitated by my emotional life, to the point of needing the accommodations provided by my IEPs.

One point of criticism for disability accommodations for emotional difficulties is that they offer a shortcut to success for the student, preventing the student from developing the skills and resilience necessary for the unaccommodating “real world.”

I will only say that I am extremely grateful to have been given grace in high school, and that it didn’t prevent me from being successful later—I completed college and law school without a single accommodation.

I celebrate Disability Pride Month, not because I would choose this experience of BPD if I had the option, but because it is part of my identity and story.

July was established as Disability Pride Month to commemorate the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act on July 26, 1990. Click here to learn about the history and symbolism of the Disability Pride Flag.

About the Author: Saadia is a young professional with lived experience of borderline personality disorder. She volunteers with the Lived Experience Committee because she wants to share the gift of recovery with others. You can find her on LinkedIn.