Poem: Therapy






Therapy should help you see the opportunities

And light up your night sky with stars,

Not leave you with nothing to show but

An arm full of scars.

It should lessen your troubles,

Not make them doubled;

Strengthen your voice,

And make you feel you have a choice,

Not make you powerless, afraid to speak out…

These last weeks have broken me, there is no shred of doubt.

I’ve tried my hardest, every single week

But each day brings a vision more bleak.

I’ve suffered a secret, unfortunate affliction,

That I dare not speak of –

It’s the stuff of fiction.

A feeling I myself cannot understand;

An experience so tragic and most certainly unplanned.

And now with one week to go,

I’m living through the deepest pain, that nobody else knows.

The weight on my heart each moment, it grows.

The beating no longer resides in my chest…

The imminent loss has dragged it down to its new place of rest.

The pit of my stomach is where my heart goes to die,

Unrequited in torment brought on by ‘goodbye’.

None will know the horror I’ve endured,

Falling ill to circumstance,

Praying for rescue, with no hope nor chance.

My refuge became my prison cell;

Perpetual torture, trapped in hell…

Unable to escape the choices I made,

The cards I played,

The longing in my heart, and the impending grief

Of losing the cause of my heartache, but also of my relief.

Nobody could know, for I’ve worked hard to conceal

The chaos of gut-wrenching emotions I feel.

The therapists know, as does my arm,

All others are oblivious to the destruction and harm,

And how hard I’ve fought, to try and remain strong,

To attempt to join in, and feel like I belong.

I surprise myself that I lasted this long.

I’ve made every session – the whole course I’ve braved…

I only hope at the end of it I can be saved.

Poem: One Slash.

*This poem is about self-harm & depression, so read with care*


One Slash.



One slash of skin and the monster within

Breathes new life.

From that moment the whirlpool had me;

I pedal hard beneath the water, but to no avail,

I cannot escape the clutches of darkness…

I’ve tried and I’ve failed.

The fog has thickened,

The tunnel has collapsed,

The weight of the world has doubled upon my shoulders;

My heart has grown colder.

There is no joy anywhere in sight.

Everything troubles me, nothing is right.

Erratic emotions,

Volatile moods,

One word and then SLASH,

The monster stirs, clawing at my arm;

Although it is a part of me, it wants to do me harm.

Never before in my life, have I been victim more –

Victim to my unstable mind,

I watch my life as it all unwinds.

My sanity splatters against the walls of my soul,

I’ve lost my compass, and all of my control.

Torn apart from all that held me together,

That one slash of skin has changed me forever.

The path I walk is treacherous in nature,

And frightful to the eye;

A slice of me no longer cares if I live or die.

They summoned the demon inside,

Walked away, and now I’ve nowhere to hide.

Its grip on my heart cannot be denied.

The sickness tells me they want me to perish,

An untimely death.

If I cannot help myself then I don’t deserve breath.

If they knew the violence of the monster they’ve released,

Would they swoop in and help me tame the beast?

One slash was all it took

To lure me back, and have me hooked.

One slash, one bad relapse,

One letting of blood and now I’m trapped.

Please save me someone, save me from myself;

I’ve drifted miles away from everyone else…


Suspended in purest black,

I’ve fallen too far, now there’s no way back.

There’s no safety net as far as the eye can see…

Could this be the end of me?

I’ve lost the person I used to be.

God, take me back before that night,

Make those blood-stained tiles dazzling white;

Take that razor from my hand,

Make the encounter go as planned;

Undo my actions, and heal my heart,

For that one slash is all it took for my life to fall apart.

Poem: Twice More And Then Goodbye.


Twice More And Then Goodbye



Twice more and then goodbye,

I dare not dwell on it, lest I cry.

But the ache in my chest, knows no rest;

It calls your name throughout the day

And weeps for you at night,

Breaking daily, at the thought of forever

Without that face, that voice, the light of your spirit;

My heart cries an echo of love in your direction,

But you’ll never hear it.

My feelings, formed thoughts, formed words, formed rhyme –

I wrote once of love, but now of loss and the swiftness of time.

I wish you’d stay for evermore,

The wounds of abandonment burn tender and raw.

I’ve sliced and written line after line, of my affection,

The perceived connection,

About your perfection,

And the harshness of reality – your eternal rejection.

The forbidden fruit which grows upon my tree,

Ripened for you,

Offered by me.

But there are some things that simply cannot be,

For my life is a tragedy…

Life brought me to you, only too late,

It always does, life is cruelty and bitterest pain.

There is no sunshine in my sky, it went away,

It hides behind clouds of darkest grey;

I know only blustering winds and torrential rain,

Each day drenching me just the same.

They say ‘Look for rainbows!’

Yet sunlight is needed to light up the sky in radiant colour,

Since there’s no such thing for me,

My life is darker and duller.

Maybe in a different time, a universe far from here,

You could have been my sunshine…

The one whom I’d hold dear.

You’d take my hand and walk with me, to a future of our own;

You’d kiss away the scars of life,

And show me happiness like I’ve never known;

You’d make me feel beautiful, and as though I am your world,

You’d pick the apple from my tree, and make my toes curl.

You’d love me unconditionally

And stay with me for all our lives;

I’d be your best friend, confidant and eventually your wife.

We’d live in bliss for all our days,

The clouds of my life departing, from our love’s rays…

I wistfully dream that maybe, someday, somewhere,

If not in this life, then perhaps once we depart –

In a new life, with a brand new start,

I’ll be given the chance to capture your heart.

And there will be no more hurt,

And no more farewells,

Because ‘Twice more and then goodbye’…

And goodbye is hell.

Poem: Never To Be.

Never To Be

She bids farewell to her heart’s desire,

The pain expanding through her chest.

The nights grow colder; the days more dim,

The sad reality… she will never know him.

She’ll never feel the rhythm of his heart,

Nor be the one to make it beat faster, harder,

Out of his chest;

She will never be blessed enough

To know the warmth of his embrace;

The peace, of resting beside him as the sunrise touches his face.

Her lips will never connect with his.

She’ll never hear his voice again,

That gentle, calming tone, which always soothed her pain

And led her to a dream-like trance;

A spiritual romance.

She will hear his adorable laugh no more,

Nor share in the inner workings of his brilliant mind.

She’ll not see those dancing, deep and penetrating eyes

For the rest of time;

Her life will feel like an imperfect rhyme…

How can a world exist without his presence,

His spirit,

His light?

How can life go on with him forever out of sight?

She will never know the safety of his hand,

The love behind his smile,

The warmth of his breath upon her skin.

She won’t know his achievements and lavish him with pride;

Her deepest fears and secrets, in him she won’t confide.

She will never feel the intimacy of lying in his arms all night,

Learning of his life, his hopes, his dreams,

And putting the world to rights.

She will never be the reason he smiles

And looks forward to another tomorrow,

She’ll never be his solace, his comfort through life’s sorrows.

She won’t share his joy, his pleasure, his bed;

She’ll be haunted evermore by ghosts of words unsaid;

The poems he inspires will never be read.

Soon there’ll be no more goodbyes, and no more hellos,

He’ll live in her heart as he lets her go;

She’ll love him forever, and he’ll never know.

Where Do I Turn?

Where Do I Turn_


I’m currently researching whether CBT is useful to those with BPD.

I feel trapped and lost right now. And horribly alone. I’m lacking trust, faith and confidence in the therapy service I’m using at the moment. I don’t think they can help me. I’m going to discuss this with the doctor tomorrow, to see if there’s any other help I can get.

But I’m looking into what types of therapy are useful for people with BPD. Obviously I know DBT is useful, as I did two courses of it back-to-back and it was one of the only things to help me, by reducing my self-harm. The course I’m doing at the moment touches on aspects of DBT, but the support isn’t there. It’s a twelve week course, without individual support alongside it. It’s not long enough, and there isn’t that bond with a therapist. All that’s happening is a lot of old wounds are being violently ripped open, some new ones added to them, and I’m expected to treat them myself and navigate a labyrinth of intense emotions, and suicidal feelings entirely alone. Or at the very least, until the end of the course and I see my individual therapist.

I don’t think this type of therapy is suitable for someone as troubled as me. I need more support than this. Unfortunately, I’m not aware of any further help out there. I’ve been led to believe the Community Mental Health Team will not take me on, as I don’t fit their criteria anymore. So where do I turn? What therapy would best benefit me? I need advice.

In my research I’m reading that many people with BPD find CBT quite damaging, though I’m sure there are many cases where it has been useful to people. I’m starting to think we need different treatment, more attuned to our emotional needs. I’m seeing the best options as DBT (Dialectical Behavioural Therapy), Schema-based therapy (whatever that is!), or TFP (Transference-Focused Psychotherapy). Now, as someone with BPD who is currently transferring on a therapist, this sounds like the best option. But I cannot have this therapy with this person, probably not even this service. I might even have to pay to go privately to see a specialised therapist – and what’s the likelihood of me experiencing transference with them, like I am with this one right now?! How can I discuss my transference on him, to a different therapist? How on Earth would that be helpful? What if I don’t form a good bond with any therapist I see?

The way I see it, with BPD it’s important to build a strong therapeutic relationship with the therapist… to be able to trust them, be open with them, and believe they care. The trouble I’m having with this CBT is the emotional distance. I know all therapists have to maintain this, but in a way it’s worsening things for me, because what I need in my life is emotional warmth. So to have that denied by the therapists is very painful for me. It makes me feel they don’t care about me, whether I live or die. It makes me feel like a statistic. It makes me feel like a burden. If anything it’s amplifying the problems that exist for me already, and confirms that nobody cares, and I can’t be cured.

It feels very invalidating at the moment, which I didn’t experience as much with DBT. The deeper connection and understanding is lacking. I know this is because it’s a group course… they are there to simply teach skills and ideas, and nothing else, but surely they ought to take at least some responsibility for the monsters they awaken? The problems I’m currently having are related to the therapy, therefore wouldn’t it be ideal if they could help me with it…. help me see things a different way?

But I’ve come to terms with the fact they aren’t going to help me. They don’t understand my issues. They don’t care what happens to me. I’m going to face a painful loss in a couple of weeks, and I’m expected to just survive it on my own. They don’t get that this isn’t about a course ending. It’s not that I’d be like this whatever it was that was ending…. This is about the one therapist I’m transferring on. The one I admire and don’t want to lose. It’s specifically him I don’t want to lose. He thinks I have issues working with him. I don’t. I have issues NOT working with him. I want and need his help. And I don’t want to face the pain and heartbreak of losing him forever. Why is that so hard for people to understand??

He / they clearly don’t understand transference, as they believe it’s something that should sort itself out, without any help (in other words ‘Just ignore it and it’ll go away’), and if it doesn’t then I just need to not work with him anymore. But they’re missing the point – that I don’t want to lose him. So having it implied I’ll have to lose him if I don’t get over it, is so unhelpful and damaging. Basically it’s saying ‘Get over your fear of losing me, or you’ll lose me!’ WTF?!

Everything I’ve read about transference indicates it’s something to be looked at and worked through. It’s a useful tool to recovery. But I shouldn’t be left all alone with it. This is new to me. I’ve never experienced transference before. I don’t know what I’m doing! But clearly they wouldn’t know either. They think it’s nothing more than one of my ‘vicious circles’ and can be dealt with through mindfulness.

It’s making me angry, because these people have NO idea how much pain and distress I’m in right now. They don’t know about my life. They don’t know how their actions or lack thereof, are contributing to already existing beliefs. They think mindfulness will solve all my problems. ‘Mindfully accepting my emotions’ will see me safely through what feels to me like a traumatic loss. They don’t understand that this is the level of distress I feel, and I need support with it. Or at the very least I need to feel heard, understood and validated… and not in general terms of ‘Oh it’s natural to feel like this when something comes to an end’… I need to feel they’re hearing ME. Like they understand what I’m saying and how big a deal it is to me personally. I don’t feel my feelings matter.

And I don’t trust that they’re not mirroring my life and making me feel distress deliberately, to test me and make me cope on my own. I don’t trust their motives anymore. If I can’t trust them, what / who can I trust?

When Therapy Does More Harm Than Good.

* Self-harm and a lot of very bad language, I’m sorry *



I find myself being a ball of thoughts and emotions today. Last night fucked me up royally.

I found myself at the MIU at the hospital again after my CBT group. I had gone home and harmed myself badly. The nurse who treated me was appalled that this was the second time I had come away from therapy, harming myself. But she said it’s not the first time she’s heard of it doing that to people. I explained to her that the course is opening up a lot for me, and I’m not getting the support with it. I told her I’m unlikely to finish the course now. I can’t keep coming away worse than when I went. In the couple of months I’ve been there I have ended up at the hospital twice (two of only three times in my life). But I have harmed myself more times at home and not sought treatment. This isn’t right.

Yesterday I asked one of the therapists if I would receive any help with my transference issue at all, as I was concerned that this can of worms had been opened, and I would be left to deal with it on my own. I can’t recall everything that was said, only what I took from what was said… the message I received was that I have to be my own therapist, use mindfulness, and pretty much get over it. It either magically sorts itself out, or I have to stop working with the therapist I’m transferring on. So no mention of help working through it. Fuck that. So I come to therapy to try and help me recover, I have this massively distressing thing come up, and I’m expected to shrug it off or be forced to face a traumatic loss that I’m already dreading. “If you can’t get over it by yourself I’ll abandon you”… that’s how it feels to me. That is so fucking awful to convey to someone like me. I feel utterly powerless and alone. That’s why I harm myself nowadays… I have no control over anything. And things like last night’s conversation DO NOT help.

I wasn’t being listened to, understood or heard. I give up trying to get them to understand me. What’s the point? I wish I’d never even mentioned this issue to them in the first place. The way they’ve handled it, or rather NOT handled it, has set me back years. I am so fucking angry with them as a service. I’ve lost all trust and faith in them. My interaction with the one yesterday made me realise they don’t give a fuck about me, and I really am as alone as I have always felt… they’ve stirred up this shit-storm for me and don’t care what it does to me. The other therapist didn’t help me when I specifically asked for their help, abandoning me when I needed them…. ‘for my own good’, to get me to push myself – I don’t trust their motives now. Both of them have ruined my problem-solving attempts, by rejecting what I had decided to do. They’re fucking useless.

And I feel so upset to have to say that, because only a few weeks ago I was so grateful to them, and desperately sad about losing them. But this set-up isn’t working for me. They’re leaving me in distress and without support.

I told the therapist last night that I didn’t feel safe. They asked if I had the means on me to harm myself, and I said no, and inside my head I was screaming ‘I WISH I DID!!!’ … they asked about how I could keep myself safe tonight… I honestly didn’t know. They just don’t seem to understand my pain and suffering right now. I am getting worse. And they still don’t want to know.

They don’t even seem to recognise how fucking hard I’ve been working every single fucking week to be there, and do the homework and make progress, despite this agonising feeling. The therapist said about it being a block to therapy… which is what I had said originally… I then changed that and said the block is denying it, pushing it away and seeing it as something other than an aspect of therapy. Now here he was saying it’s a block! NO. The BLOCK is the way it’s being handled, i.e. it’s NOT. Why can’t it be acknowledged?! Why can’t my feelings and pain be validated?! Why can’t I NOT be made to feel like a fucking burden / nuisance / unlovable / disgusting / awful freak, for having feelings I don’t want to have.

I should never have said anything and I’m so angry with myself for having done so. I SHOULD have done what I’ve always done and stuffed my feelings down, and suffered in silence. These therapists are teaching me that’s the best way to live. All this therapy is demonstrating to me at this point is that every belief I have about myself and other people / life, is correct. I’m a worthless piece of shit who should kill herself, then they won’t have to deal with me anymore. I hate myself, I hate them, I hate life, and I give up on all of it.

I didn’t open my mouth at all in the session last night. I disappeared during the break. And I left the session quickly, without saying goodbye. Nobody noticed me at all. The therapists, particularly the one I spoke to before the session, didn’t even look at me once. I might as well have not been there. I was invisible. Body language towards me was different. I felt rejected and isolated. During a role-play, discussing ways you could say no to someone, they joked about different answers, and said ‘My granddad died – my other granddad’… and I found that insensitive since that’s exactly what I’m struggling with right now. So I took that personally.

I battled graphic images of what I wanted to do to myself when I got home. In the break I sat in the toilets and decided I would do it. I felt calmer in the second half as I knew I had self-harm to turn to when I got home. I couldn’t get out of there quick enough.

I don’t know if they realise they’re destroying me. And if they realise, I’m not sure they actually care. I have three more sessions. I wanted to spend those sessions making the most of their company, and joining in with the group. But I’ve never felt more alienated in my life. I feel so stupid for ever mentioning transference. I feel ashamed I’m getting worse and harming more. I wanted to be on good terms with them, but now I don’t feel I am, especially since I was totally ignored and blocked out of vision last night. I feel I’ve pissed them off, they’ve had enough of me, they hate me, I disgust them, they’ve given up on me. Which is fine. I’ve given up on myself.

The only good thing is I’m seeing the doctor before the next session, so I can speak to her and decide what’s best for me. I’ll tell her everything and she might say there’s a better service for me. These people are only compounding my problems and leaving me to deal with them alone. This should not be allowed in someone with BPD. It’s dangerous. But I get the sense they don’t give a fuck about that. ‘All lives matter‘, apart from mine apparently. Whatever.

Poem: Life Or Death.

*This poem is about suicide / suicidal thoughts, so please take care*


Life Or Death


The tragedy of our time…

So many heavily burdened souls,

Stepping off that ledge,

Pressing down on that wrist,

Swallowing those pills,

Wishing it didn’t have to be like this…

So many suffering spirits, tired of this life,

Yet not wanting to die.

Not wishing to say goodbye.

Purely longing for a change in fortune,

A silence in their minds

For people to be more kind.

For the pain and torment to cease,

Simply seeking a moment’s peace

In a messed up world.

To feel a sense of purpose,


To no longer feel alone.

To believe they matter to someone out there,

To receive the right level of help and care.

We don’t want to die.

We just don’t want to live,

Not the way life is…

And these dark thoughts fool us to think,

We’re a burden, a strain, a nuisance, a pain.

We’d be doing all a favour to rid the world of us.

In the bleakness of despair we think not

Of the grief, the aftermath, the fuss.

All there is, is a choice…

Life or death.

But with the life laid before us,

There seems no choice at all.

Life is too overpowering and leaves us feeling small,




We write that note,

Do that deed,

And if indeed we do succeed,

They will never know

We never truly wanted to go.

We longed to be saved,

And so many efforts were tirelessly made

To hold on just one more day,

To seem ‘okay’,

And believe that one person in this world needed us to stay.

But the truth is too painful to say.

We’re alone in life,

Alone in death,

Our pain, only visible once we take that last breath.

Invisible, we go unseen,

Not a soul could notice something’s wrong.

They’ll only discover it when we’re gone.

I’ve been gone a while now,

If not in body, then in spirit.

I’ve been crying out for love and help

But nobody cares to hear it.

I fear where this path will take me,

But what more can I do?

I sent a message out loud and clear,

It’s just not getting through.

I matter not,

To him,

To her,

To anyone…

But I’m sure I will, only too late,

Once the deed is done.