If you’ve ever seen Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, you may recall season three, episode six, when Rebecca Bunch dances down hospital corridors, singing about how excited she is to finally get a diagnosis. I didn’t wear a bright yellow dress or burst into song, but I felt the same way when I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder (BPD). By then, I had struggled with my mental health for over a decade, though therapy revealed the roots ran much deeper. I had assumed I was dealing with depression, anxiety and an eating disorder. It turns out that these all fell under the umbrella of BPD; suddenly, I didn’t feel like I was just a terrible person. There was hope for me.

But, like Rebecca, I went home and googled it. Big mistake. The internet was filled with horror stories, Reddit threads and even medical professionals saying people with BPD were impossible to treat. Even with my psychology degree, I had barely heard about the disorder before my own diagnosis. Why was no one talking about it when studies estimate that up to 2.7% of the population has it?

Then, as I rewatched my favourite comfort shows, I realised that BPD is commonly observed in TV shows. However, it wasn’t for relatable and nuanced characters – it was reserved for the villains.

In season one of Desperate Housewives, Zach Young is placed in a mental hospital after breaking into Bree’s house to put up Christmas lights. We’re told he has BPD, he gets medicated, and boom: he holds Susan at gunpoint. He’s a threat to others and removed from the show, not to be heard from for several seasons.

Many of us will remember the absurd joy of Ugly Betty. Back in season two, Wilhelmina’s younger sister Renee begins dating Daniel and falls very hard. It’s revealed that she has BPD and, as a result, is a pyromaniac who sets fires to kill those who have romantically wronged her. It’s no surprise when she goes off her meds, tries to kill Betty and is readmitted to a psychiatric facility.

Meanwhile, in the mob-filled world of The Sopranos, we see an informal diagnosis of BPD. Throughout the show, Tony speaks to a therapist about his life and struggles – including his abusive and cruel mother, Livia. He describes her as viewing her children as dogs, and she is revealed to conspire with Junior to put a hit on him. Tony’s therapist explains that Livia clearly has BPD, despite having never spoken to the woman herself. This supposedly explains all her villainous behaviour.

It’s no wonder people fear this diagnosis when pop culture has turned it into shorthand for ‘dangerous and unstable’. When I watch these portrayals, I catch myself believing it too – convincing myself that I am the villain, that all my pain is self-inflicted and that I’m inherently unlovable. What these extreme versions of BPD fail to show is the reality: we’re far more likely to be hurt than to hurt others. We’re often prime targets for narcissists and abusers, and we’re just trying to navigate emotions that feel impossible to control.

That’s why Crazy Ex-Girlfriend felt like a game-changer. And funnily enough, Rebecca’s BPD diagnosis wasn’t even intentional at first. The showrunners originally wrote her with anxiety and OCD, based on creator Rachel Bloom’s experiences. But after reviewing the scripts with experts, they realised Rebecca ticked every single box for BPD.

And honestly? As someone with BPD, I saw myself in Rebecca long before she got that label. She drops everything and moves cross-country for a possible shot at love. She risks her job, friendships and cervical pH because she sees this as a way to impress a man. She spirals into self-destructive behaviour but desperately wants to be better. She’s messy, but she’s not a monster. Her disorder explains her actions, but it never excuses them.

After my panicked midnight Google searches, I went back to my therapist and asked why she chose to specialise in personality disorders when so many of her peers actively avoided them. She told me that by the time people find her, they’ve already cycled through countless therapists and failed treatment plans. She gets to be the one to finally help them understand themselves.

That’s the empathy I want to see in future portrayals of BPD. I don’t want to be the one-dimensional villain – I want to be the best friend, the love interest, the complicated but ultimately human character. We’ve seen this shift happen for other mental illnesses: PTSD in Jessica Jones, bipolar disorder in Insecure, depression and alcoholism in Bojack Horseman and dissociative identity disorder in Mr. Robot. These characters get to be flawed and lovable, heroes and antiheroes, complex and real.

So, why do I only see myself represented in just one show? Every day, I take medication, I practise setting boundaries and I work to be a better version of myself. Why can’t I be shown in that light? All I want is for the conversation around BPD to be expanded. Because I promise you, people like me aren’t just out here setting fires and plotting murders. We’re just trying to get through the day, the same as everyone else.

If you or someone you know is struggling with their mental health, you can find support and resources on the mental health charity Mind’s website and NHS Every Mind Matters or access the NHS’s list of mental health helplines and services.

If you are struggling with your mental health, you can also ask your GP for a referral to NHS Talking Therapies, or you can self-refer.

For confidential support, you can also call Samaritans in the UK on 116 123.

Images: Getty