The Borderline See-Saw.

_Hey_

 

 

It’s all ‘too much’ at the moment. Everything is hurting my heart. It seems everything I do is ‘wrong’. And I’m overthinking every minute detail, within seconds. Someone doesn’t reply to me… they don’t like me. Someone drops out of a conversation…. I said the wrong thing. Someone takes a long time to answer a question…. I came on too strong and made them feel awkward. Someone doesn’t look at what I’m showing them… they’re bored and I’m being annoying. Someone doesn’t respond when I talk to them…. they don’t care about me.

 

Every tiny moment is analysed within seconds of it happening. I can’t switch it off. I’m programmed now to notice rejection everywhere I go, from every person I meet and none of them ever let me down with that.

 

Did they get the message? Did they pass on the message? Did I say the wrong thing? Are they sitting back expecting me to talk to them before they’ll ever message me again? Do they not want to talk to me ever again? If so why the hell are they ‘friends’ with me online? I’m invisible, to everyone, all the time. And I don’t know what I’m more upset about – people treating me as though I don’t exist, or me being upset about it. I’m sick of reading so much into other people’s lack of words or actions. But this is what life has done to me.

 

I don’t know how many times and different ways I can explain how this feels to me, and what I need from people. But I’ll try once more.

 

 

I NEED CONSISTENCY, CARE AND COMMUNICATION.

 

 

The biggest of all is consistency. Because after so long of people ignoring my existence, if you come along and notice I exist, I’ll come to life again… but the minute you switch back to nothingness, you’re dropping me from the edge of space.

 

I can’t stand the ups and downs. I can’t stand the hot and cold treatment…. because picture for a minute Bipolar Disorder…. the highs and the lows. These tend to happen at a slower rate (or so I believe – I don’t know much about Bipolar myself so I’m sorry if I’m mistaken)… people have periods of deep depression and periods of mania. BPD is similar in some ways, but the speed and frequency of the mood changes is scary. It happens in reaction to what’s going on around us at any given moment – we’re more reactive to changes in our lives and interpersonal issues. If you treat me like you care one minute and then drop me the next, you are triggering those mood changes – the ones that make me feel sick of experiencing emotions altogether.

 

I once really liked a guy but he was the king of hot and cold. He’d show interest in me and then ghost me for months at a time. This had me messaging him over and over, trying to keep him in my life and get him talking to me again. Usually every year on his birthday he’d start talking to me again, but the pattern always repeated. It was all likely a game to him, feeding his ego and I bet he was laughing about how desperate I was, and how much I ‘wanted him’. Little did he know it was one of the symptoms of my illness…. that fear of abandonment. He was constantly triggering it.

 

I’d had people disappear on me before him, but he was the one person who blew hot and cold so much I think it actually made me unstable emotionally. If someone feels intense emotions in reaction to external stimuli, namely the state of a relationship with you, and you turn on the charm one minute and ghost them the next… lather, rinse, repeat… you’re going to destroy their spirit. That’s what he did to me. Until one day, three or four years ago, I stopped going back. And that was the hardest thing I had ever done until that point. I cared about him so much. He never appreciated that. I still care. I know he’s lost someone close to him recently and I feel deeply for him. I feel sad about it. I wish I could reach out to him about it, but I will never open that door myself again. Ever. I will never beg for attention and I will never be accused of running back to him. I don’t feel that way for him now. He hurt me way too much and was never even sorry about it. He was just like everyone else in my life – they’ve all hurt me and didn’t even feel bad about it. They all taught me I’m nothing. So I have certainly moved on from the feelings I had. Of course I still care when something like that happens… I’m human and have a heart. And I’m not ‘over it’ in the sense that it ruined my life, so it’s hard to trust men anymore. It’s hard to feel anything for anyone anymore. And it’s hard to feel good whilst talking to ANYONE now, because the moment the conversation just stops, it feels like I’m being toyed with again, like he did to me. He broke me. And right at this minute I’m so sad and hurt by this.

 

If you treat someone to care, kindness, attention or anything good, and then drop off the face of the planet, you destroy their hope, their trust and their happiness.  You need to be a steady support for someone with BPD. We need to know you’re not going anywhere. I don’t have that luxury anymore. This guy might have not liked the symptoms of my illness that his endless abandonments and flip-flopping brought out, but had he treated me better, more consistently, it would never have set in my anxieties and doubts. If people want to see the best in me, they have to be the best of themselves, and if they can’t bring that to the table they should be honest about that. They should tell me they don’t want to hurt me… that they don’t want to mess me around…. that I deserve better. Then they should walk away and never entertain toying with my emotions again. I hope he’s grown up and learnt more since that happened. I never will see an apology for what he did to me. I have to accept this, and do my best to undo the damage it caused inside my mind. If I can’t undo it, I have to just try and survive it.

 

I really do hate that when people talk to me and I suddenly get all invested in them, as someone actually noticed me and doesn’t hate me, I have to stop and tell myself to calm down, don’t say the wrong thing and scare them off. Life shouldn’t be like this. But it seems to be for me. I live in fear of saying the wrong thing, coming on too strong (in a platonic way I mean) and putting people off. I’m extra-sensitive to everything at the moment… and I do interpret silence as a bad thing. I can’t stop these paranoid thoughts racing. I can’t stop feeling like people dislike me and want to avoid me. I try my best, but if I break my own silence and talk to others and have periods of communicating with people, I start to expect consistency, and nobody seems capable of maintaining that (I can’t really expect them to if I can’t do it myself….), so it triggers what would be considered the ‘depression’ phase in Bipolar. It’s like getting your hopes up and being let down, but this happening every day. It’s sickening. I don’t know if I’m explaining it well enough…

 

It almost feels better to have no expectation or hopes…. to expect the worst from everyone… to believe nobody cares about me….  because the minute I think maybe I’m wrong and someone does care, I’m just as quickly dropped back to Earth when they ‘reject’ me again. I can’t take the see-saw of emotions and the lurch in my stomach and the suicidal feelings that come from falling back down. I just wish people would stop picking me up only to drop me again. I hate being alone and wouldn’t wish for people to just eternally ghost me and leave me alone, but I wish if they picked me up they’d take care to not drop me, as I’m incredibly fragile at the moment. I need to be handled with so much care, and the problem is most people can’t manage a drop of care for me.

 

I feel it’s better for other people if they stay away from me at the moment. I don’t want this. But I’ll only end up mad at them for letting me down… and as nobody so far has been ‘all in’, and they have all been half-hearted about it, they’re only going to make me worse right now.  I don’t know the answer. I do know a lot of people with BPD reach a point they feel it’s better to not have any friends, as the relationship issues that stem from this illness are too much to bear. I want friends. But I want friends who are consistent, open in communication and who truly care about me. I think anything else right now is damaging to my mental health. Maybe isolating myself isn’t the best thing, but getting my hopes up at the slightest ‘like’ or word someone says to me… it’s breaking my heart slowly… because the truth is I’m alone. I have no friends. I’m nobody’s friend. And nobody cared enough to give me a conversation. They all walked away, whether by hurting me, just ghosting me, or leaving this world, none of them cared enough to give me closure. None of them.

 

I live in silent pain… unable to move on… unable to actually live. And nobody knows how lonely I feel, but how trapped I feel too… I have to be this lonely, because hoping for anything more only hurts me. I can’t even think of forming new friendships, because I believe I’m only tolerated at best… I hate every single thing about myself now. I hate how I look, I hate my voice… so much… I hate the way I walk. I hate the way I laugh… I just hate everything. I hate my personality. I hate being who I am. I’m still haunted by the beliefs from school – that I’m boring. I feel I’m an embarrassment to be seen with or to know. I feel so ashamed of so much about me. I feel judged for my illness. I feel misunderstood. I feel I’m not good enough for anyone. And I can’t trust anyone anymore. I doubt people’s motives. I believe people only use me when they have something to gain, otherwise they won’t talk to me.  I believe people will drop me as soon as they find out about my illness. I am such an ugly person inside and out, and I hate that I’m wasting oxygen while good people are dying. There is nothing good about me anymore. Anything there was, was killed off by people who never cared.

 

There’s too much damage to fix now. I have to keep people at a distance because they will hurt and abandon me. But none of them want to be closer anyway… proving my point. I just want someone in my life who looks at the horror that is me, and sticks by me regardless. Someone who sees something in me that I can’t see. Someone who won’t let go of my hand during the storms. Someone who has my back every time. Someone who reassures me of their care without me having to ask for it. Someone who communicates consistently and wants to soothe my emotions, not trigger them. I want this. I need this. But I can’t have this. Because if it was anyone in my life currently, they’d be doing this already. The only person I had who did this was my friend Liv… but she’s gone now, forever… there’s nobody else. So it means reaching out for new people – I can’t trust new people. I will never believe that anyone could like me or want to be my friend. The scar runs too deep. I’ll never believe anyone ever again.

 

I feel defeated tonight. I just want it all to go away. I want to not be me anymore.

 

 

 

Tried But Failed.

*Self-harm & suicidal references, as well as bad language*

 

 

I’m trying my best to get to the end of this month without self-harming…. it’ll mean I only had one incident this month. But it’s so hard.

 

Last night I was researching my options for leaving this world. Today I see all the political news, plus our side of the argument is turning on itself. People are posting the same thing as me and getting likes and comments of support, whilst I have silence… nothing. Someone asked me if I was going to go back into my place of voluntary work, and when I said not at the moment their look and ‘Oh’ was like a stab in the heart. It was like a sign I’m a failure and a disappointment… like I’m just being lazy or a coward for not going in. The reality is the last time I went in, before the holiday, I had someone’s bad mood taken out on me. I felt unappreciated. I felt I was in the way and doing everything wrong. I self-harmed. So I don’t exactly feel up to facing all that shit again right now. I can’t pretend to be okay. I know this person doesn’t know how not okay I am – nobody does, that’s the problem. The only people who know how bad things are for me are people who read this blog. But I’m not okay.

 

I want to not be here anymore. Admittedly my emotions are likely up the wall at the moment for reasons probably only women would understand… but I feel I need to hibernate this week…. I need to stay off social media, avoid the news, avoid work, avoid everyone and everything…. but that one look of disapproval this morning makes me feel trapped. I feel I’m not allowed to keep myself safe. I’m expected to carry on and push myself. I now feel guilt for not going in to work, and for not caring if they’re okay with it. But I’m struggling so much and can’t do it. I could go in, to appease the disapprover, to stop my guilt, but I’ll be coming home with new scars probably… In fact I was just asked why I’m not going in…. in order for them to know so as not to put their foot in it….. bit late for that. It should be obvious the reason I’m not going is my mental health. If they can’t see that, then WTF!? They just keep digging the hole. As someone else said it’s none of their business. They should just accept I’m not going, as any questions about it will only make me feel bad for not going. I’m sick of all this shit.

 

I’m not ready to get on that merry-go-round of work. The never-ending stress machine where I embarrass myself and then can’t go in, then come back and struggle to cope and feel shit about myself. Where things are expected of me, people talk to me in tones I can’t handle because I’m right on the edge of ending my life, where one nudge and that’s it. I can’t do it. But then I feel I’m not allowed to not do it, because not going in makes me a disappointment, a failure and a burden to my loved ones. They don’t understand how bad I am right now, so they don’t understand why going in to work right now would kill me.

 

And I just feel the pressure building – from work, from home, from the job people imminently going to talk to me…. from myself, from time. I just want the world to stop so I can grieve. So I can recover. So I can want to live life again. Then I’ll continue and not miss more years of what should be ‘life’, to this mental illness. I’m just sick of existing and having to go through the motions just to keep others happy. And I’m sick of having to feel like a fucking failure for being unable to go through the motions. And I’m sick of not being able to TALK to anyone about the fact I can’t do this life anymore.

 

And then there’s my ex-friend. She doesn’t know what it’s like to always be the one who is abandoned…. left…. she made the choice to turn her back on me. She didn’t even give me the option. I tried to work things out with her. I put in effort. I told her the next steps. She just didn’t want to take them.

 

So now she’s free of me. Her life is probably improving without me in it. It’s allowing HER to heal. It’s allowing HER to move on. It’s allowing HER to distance herself from the hurt and the guilt, so that MAYBE one day we can be friends again as she’ll be in a better place. Utter bullshit, as I won’t be. Her leaving me without even talking to me has destroyed me and any chance of us ever being friends again. Whilst she’s out there healing and improving her life without me, I am paralysed. I cannot do the same because I have nothing left. She may be able to switch off from my existence and move on with her life and let go of the hurt, but I never will. Her way of ‘coping’ is a way of killing me.

 

 

^ ^ ^

Wrote the above this morning. Unfortunately something bad happened this afternoon and I’ve now failed to make it to the end of the month without hurting myself. My choice was either to do that or to throw myself out of a moving vehicle. This is the second time in two months I’ve found myself in this situation, and if it continues then I’ll opt for the latter. Almost had a crash earlier caused by some idiot on the road, which was terrifying enough, but it’s what happened afterwards that was the problem. I don’t think certain people get how awful it is for someone with BPD to be TRAPPED inside a vehicle, with no control, with raised voices and not being allowed to voice their feelings or fears. It’s NOT okay. I WILL fucking jump out next time. This has to stop or my life will stop. Simple as that.

 

So yeah, very shit day. Was shit before that, but there we go. I was going to continue on from earlier by saying I feel so completely isolated that I’ve considered getting in touch with people from my past… friends who hurt me in the past…. simply because I have nobody now. That’s how bad it is.

 

Oh and now we have another extension and no sign of a General Election anytime soon….. Parliament might as well hold the blade that kills me. They might as well push me off that ledge. They’ve pissed on my vote for the last time. I hope they all fucking rot in hell for the traitors they are. I’m as invisible to them as I am to supposed ‘friends’ and family. I’m irrelevant to everyone. I’m nothing. My voice means nothing. My voice should be ignored. I really am at a point of saying ‘FUCK THE WORLD AND ALL THE PEOPLE IN IT!!’ – I hate being that person, but I’ve put up with so much more than anyone should ever have to put up with. I hate everything and everyone, and I’m just done.

 

I’ve had my diazepam today. Not sure how much it’s helping at this point. I’m really annoyed I haven’t earnt my star on my calendar today. I’ve worked so hard to resist the urges to self-harm. I didn’t have another choice in this situation, and I’m SO angry with the person responsible for doing that. I’ll never forgive them for what they do to me with their anger. Never. They will be the death of me.

 

I really wish I could hibernate. I wish people would leave me alone, not give me any responsibilities or make me feel any guilt for just hiding away. I want to do that. I need to do that to keep safe. Why can’t I just be left to do what I want for a couple of weeks, alone? Why? I’m just so fed up with life right now. And people are an endless source of misery, pain and stress. I need peace. I need a break from life…. please.

 

 

 

 

Unstable.

*Suicide theme*

 

 

It’s the instability aspect of “Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder” that troubles me the most at the moment. It’s not a rollercoaster. People enjoy those… supposedly. The build-up and then the rush when you come rocketing down…. you see…. with a rollercoaster you see it coming…. you feel the anticipation build as you wait to hurtle towards the ground. With EUPD/BPD you don’t see it coming. And it’s not a rush when it happens. To many who go on rides (which I don’t), the best part is the drop. With BPD it’s the worst part. It comes out of nowhere and threatens your life.

 

Just yesterday I was more or less okay. I don’t really remember how I was. I just know there was nothing particularly wrong. Next thing I know I’m sat writing suicide notes, crying my eyes out and having palpitations. I don’t know what triggered it. All I know is I was meant to be writing a list of things to take on holiday… not writing suicide notes.

 

I don’t know why I did it. Maybe it was a safety valve. Picturing me not being here anymore. Maybe it helped ease whatever I was feeling.

 

The other day I wrote something I wanted my former best friend to see. I felt so positive I was going to send it to her (somehow…. not sure how, as she moved house and didn’t tell me where to, and has me blocked online). The next day I decided against it. I now feel the next time she will hear from me will be after I’m gone. Unless she makes the move to sort things out with me in this lifetime, we won’t speak again until I’m dead. So I wrote her a letter for when the time comes. I don’t know if I honestly want that to happen or if going through the motions of it just allowed me to release what I felt towards her, in a more raw way, without all the BS.

 

I started writing other ones too. It was upsetting. It was very hard to wake up this morning and pretend this hadn’t been my reality last night. I thought I would have to take my emergency meds last night, but managed to get myself through without them. So it ended up being a success story anyway. But I am still unsettled by it all.

 

I wanted to reach out to people last night, and earlier. To tell the truth about how low I felt. Yesterday I typed out a status for Facebook. But I backspaced it all. I don’t ‘attention-seek’ anymore. Nobody cares what I have to say about my mental illness. I keep it all inside. I sort of feel if I write notes and then go straight online and talk about it then it’s just for ‘attention’. It’s not real. But this was real. Or the most real it’s ever been. I still feel incredibly low from what I wrote. Because what I wrote is my reality. I’ve spent so long talking about ending my life and not doing it, so I’ve stopped talking now. This being the exception.

 

Looking through my CMHT assessment letter I see “You described thoughts of not wanting to be around however there is no intent to act on these”…. “Fleeting suicidal thoughts with no intent and plan”. Of course that was in January. We’re in October now, and I lost my only remaining friend to suicide in May. These thoughts are not ‘fleeting’ anymore. I’m unsure of ‘intent’ now… I can’t guarantee anything. Same with a ‘plan’… no fixed plan, but ideas… it’s coming together. Planning ahead. I’m beginning to think about what I want people to know when the time comes. When… the time comes. Not if. That’s how things have changed since my assessment. It feels like a certainty now, that I will leave this world by my own hand. I just don’t know when. That’s how dark my mind has become. I see no other way. The death of my friend and the cold abandonment by the other friend, it’s all changed me forever. There’s no way back from that.

 

But like I was saying, it’s the instability that gets me. I can be plodding along just fine and then be swamped by painful emotions, or even numbness. It’s like a great looming suicidal cloud wafts in and takes over everything for the rest of the day. But then today, I was doing some tidying whilst people were out, and dancing like a maniac to some great music. Now I’m sat writing this blog… feeling the weight of depression and despair behind my eyes. Feeling paralysed by reality. Feeling detached from it all. Feeling I’m already dead.

 

Part of me sometimes feels hopeful, now I’ve finally taken the first step to getting some level of help. It’ll probably be at least a month to wait for an assessment, but at least it’s something to hope for… that they can help me want to live life again. I just don’t see how they could possibly fix someone this broken. I just hate how there are times I feel there’s a bit of hope. That I can do this. That I have to do this, because I have plans next year and want to be better by then…. and then there’s other times I’m certain I won’t be here for those plans. That none of it matters…. that it’s only a matter of time until I go.

 

It’s never been quite so extreme as it has been this year. In the past people may have noticed me seeming happy one minute and then being down the next…. feeling so lucky to have such great friends, to nobody caring about me….. but this is more dramatic than that. The highs aren’t high at all. But the lows would fool you into thinking there were great highs… I fall so hard and fast, and so far below where I used to fall. Having a day where I don’t contemplate ending my life – that is a ‘high’ point for me now. Though maybe I do feel happier than that sometimes, and just can’t see it right now, as I’m in one of my ‘lows’ again.

 

I have this difficulty that when things are bad I can’t ever remember them being good. I actually found the term emotional impermanence once – at least I think that’s what it was…. the idea that you can’t recall a previously felt emotion in its absence. I was looking at that from an aspect of relationship problems – that if someone isn’t showing caring towards me, I feel like they don’t care. They may be kind and say nice words at one point, but if they then go off the radar for a month or two and never check in…. that kindness, caring and those nice words no longer exist. They weren’t permanent. They were fleeting. I remember saying in a video journal I did sometime last year, about friends saying they care about me, and my thought was ‘How long for? A message? Then back to radio silence?’ – that’s one of the problems I have…. it’s why people like me need so much reassurance when we’re ill. We forget. We need reminding. It’s what I needed from people last year…. reminders that people cared. Rather than people assuming I know they care and are there for me, as they offered it once upon a time, I need them to remind me when I’m struggling. Because when I’m most ill I truly feel nobody cares. I need evidence that they do. Current evidence. So for the last year I probably seemed like I was ‘attention-seeking’ by saying nobody cared etc. – that was me asking people to reassure me that they did. So yes, I was seeking attention… but not to feed my ego or whatever, but because I honestly couldn’t remember the feeling of being cared for. I still don’t know how that feels. Kindness and positivity feel alien to me now. It’s like there’s a shield around me whenever anyone tries it. I can’t connect to either. I wish people would think of it like amnesia or something…. they wouldn’t blame me for not being able to remember something they said a few months back, if they offered support. But they expect me to remember it when I’m struggling with my mental health. I can’t. If something isn’t happening right here right now, I don’t know how it feels and find no comfort in sentiments that may no longer exist.

 

It’s like people saying to remember the good times with my granddad and how it felt. I can’t. I’m detached from my feelings. Apart from lacking actual memories with anyone, I can’t recreate feelings that are gone. Like looking at old photos – I can’t connect to them on any level. I have to trust that was me and I did those things. I sometimes do think I have some sort of amnesia. I look at photos and think I had a wonderful upbringing and was loved. But I’m basing that on photos and how much I love my family. I don’t recall how I felt growing up. I don’t know what sort of childhood I had. I have no memories of it. It’s like it wasn’t me. Sometimes I feel like an imposter in the body of this girl in the photos. I feel like a separate entity that has taken over her body but does not share her memories. It’s weird and slightly terrifying.

 

And my former friend… I miss her. I keep thinking about everything we’ve been through together and never will do again…. there isn’t a possibility in my mind that she ever really cared about me. A lot of the troubles towards the end came from me needing her reassurance and her not understanding this, so rather than reminding me she cared about me, she made me feel like a burden to her, and the distance kept widening between us… when all I wanted and needed was her to care about me, because I couldn’t remember a time when she did. The more silence there is, the more I split and forget how people once felt about me. She then effectively ghosted me and I’ve never been the same since. It was the final nail in the coffin of my sanity. I was left to fill in the blanks with my paranoid thoughts. I was left not only with an absence of her, but an absence of her care and supportive words, and worse than that, a feeling of being nothing to her but a nuisance. I see our whole history differently as a result. I don’t see any care in the highlights my mind offers me. I see detachment. I feel used. I feel tolerated. I feel pain and hatred. And all of this because about 12-14 months ago she couldn’t say ‘I care about you….. you matter to me’ and give me an hour of her time to show she still cared about me. None of this would’ve ever happened if she could’ve just reminded me of our friendship and who I was to her. That’s why I’m sad at the moment.

 

That and my recent loss. I remember Liv saying that the 4-8 month mark was bad for her mental health after her loss. It’s been almost five months now since she left. And I’d agree. I don’t know how I’m going to cope with this. I don’t know how to get through it. All I know is I can’t talk to anyone about any of it now. They’ve all made sure of that. I suffer in silence now.

 

My circumstances are the hurdle to me recovering. Having one friend ditch me and another take her own life…. leaving me with nobody…. no support network…. no safety net…. no rock to keep me going…. no reason to live…. I’ve never had to pull myself out of a place this deep and dark, and I’ve never had to do it alone. I know that will be the point… this has happened so that I can prove my strength to pull myself out of this wreck… and if I can survive this I can survive anything. The trouble is I don’t think I will survive this. Not right now. And if I do, then what? What am I surviving for? What life am I trying to get back to? I have none. I have nothing. I have nothing to aim for. If I somehow manage to survive and get well, I will be starting my life all over again…. but at a time where I’m also likely to face more painful loss all alone, as nobody’s getting any younger… which will just knock me back down again. It feels like a hopeless uphill struggle right now. I can’t see the light. I can’t even tell which way I’m facing or where the ground is.

 

I’m taking blind steps at the moment in terms of seeking help. It took me ages to send off the forms because I couldn’t fill in the box about my goals, and what I hope to get out of using the service. So in the end I was totally honest… told it like it is. Said how bad things are, that I can’t see a future so can’t say goals… listed all the problems etc. Obviously this worried them so they want me to see my doctor while I wait to be assessed. I have a tendency to put things off. I’ve been seeing my doctor every month for the last year or so…. there’s nothing she can do to help me. She knows how bad I feel. What’s the point in going back to see her to tell her ‘yep, still feeling suicidal’…? All it does is make me feel like a burden. I don’t like worrying people. I can’t do it in the next two weeks anyway, so not much point. It’s nice that they cared though. It’s an odd feeling, that unsettled me. Brings back memories of therapy two years ago… a problem in itself. But yeah I’m just going to have to put blind faith in them to help me find my feet. I’m just worried I’ll be beyond the realms of support they can give…. and I know CMHT won’t see me until they help me… so I’m kind of stuck at the moment. Too ill for anyone, but CMHT don’t want to help at the moment, plus the grief stuff kind of effs it all up too. Who the hell do I see first, and what for?? I don’t know how to solve the chaos inside me at the moment. I’m hoping talking to them might clear that up for me. It’s good they want to know why the mental health team didn’t refer me themselves and left me to self-refer. Gives me hope that they’ll do the right thing by me and get me to the right place.

 

It’s a long way off though. Many suicidal days to survive first. It’s exhausting. Especially hiding it from everyone and pretending to be ‘normal’. But I can’t open up anymore in real life. It’s impossible. Have to just take it a day at a time and put up with the unstable emotions and raging thoughts. Don’t have another choice. If I could sleep for a long time and wake up when I’m healed and life is better, that would be great. But sadly that will never happen. I have to tolerate this existence or opt out. Although my mind is preparing for it, I’m not ready to quit yet. So I must battle on.

 

 

 

 

The Unfairness Of Life.

*Swearing near the end*

 

 

I have just realised why nobody talks to me anymore. For so long I’ve wondered why…. what I could possibly have done to them all. I thought of every reason – from them having their own stuff to think about, to not knowing what to say to someone grieving and suicidal. But it’s finally hit me…

 

They don’t talk to me and don’t want to be my friends because I blog. Because I’ve blogged about what I went through with my former best friend. They think if we were friends and they fell out with me I would blog about them too.

 

I can totally understand this thinking as well. And I don’t blame them for it. I can see how it’s my fault that I’m alone now. And I feel I deserve to be alone. That being said, I am not to blame for everything. As much as this goes against what I’m saying, I do blame my former best friend… for all of it. She may have decided to abandon me for a blog I wrote last year. That may be where she’s pinning the blame. But we had issues before that blog. She was neglecting me before that. I was ill and paranoid and grieving, and dealing with all that alone. The initial blog that caused issues with us was not about her. It was about paranoia and how it manifests as jealousy and possessiveness rather than the insecurity and fear it is. I was talking about self-fulfilling prophecies. I was right to talk about that as it’s exactly what happened. What happened after that was a misunderstanding. I felt rejected by her and like a burden to her. So I gave her the space it sounded like she wanted. But that’s not how she took it. She thought I asked for space. So she was waiting for me to approach her again. I couldn’t do that. I’d been rejected. I couldn’t put myself out there yet again. I was locked within myself. I did the best I could at the time and used my blog to break out of the bubble and communicate. Perhaps my pain and desperation stopped me wording it right. I know a lot was misinterpreted by her. But that’s the blog that offended her and she’s used as a scapegoat to ditch me.

 

But that blog was not the cause. It was the effect. Her abandoning me was the cause. The pain was the effect – and I used my blog to express my pain. I was also using it to fight for our friendship, though it clearly wasn’t received that way. I could’ve done what she was doing to me and stayed quiet…. never spoken again….. let apathy and indifference win the day. But because I bloody cared…. cared too much…. felt too much pain at losing her…. I had to say something. I had to get her to talk to me, as I couldn’t talk to her. It just went horrifically wrong, which led to her attacking and blaming me for everything. That’s what killed our friendship. That, plus snubbing me after I extended an olive branch at Christmas. And then blocking me etc. But I reckon I’m conveniently getting the blame, for blogging. I blogged because I was in pain and had nobody to turn to.

 

But now I think blogging my truth has cost me everyone else. And I’m angry with my former friend for that. Because had she treated me well, understood my illness and intentions, communicated with me properly and not run away and abandoned me at my lowest, I’d not feel so desperate that the only way to stay alive is to blog and let it all out. But nobody wants to know me now, as they think they’ll be the next topic for my blog. Well yeah…. as things stand at this moment in time I’m beyond being able to cope, and if they are like everyone else and refuse to treat me with the love, care, consistency and respect I need, and intend to hurt me then yes, they would probably end up being blogged about. But if they were decent people and intended to treat me well, then that’s a different story altogether.

 

 

What it’s demonstrating to me, yet again, is that some of us are destined for a life of pain, betrayal and abandonment. Life and the people in it will not let us move on.

 

People have endlessly hurt, betrayed and abandoned me…. unfortunately not everyone can bounce back from that. So I talk about the pain I’m in, and people don’t want to be there to prove I didn’t deserve to be treated that way. Because they think they’ll end up being talked about too.

 

It reminds me of how guys don’t want to be with a virgin. So you never get to change the fact you’re a virgin, because nobody ever gives you the chance to be anything other than one. So nobody will ever want to be with you because of the inexperience … and it never ends.

 

Just like I used to be thought of as ‘boring’. But nobody ever gave me a chance to prove I wasn’t. They never wanted to be my friend, spend time with me and see I wasn’t as quiet as I seemed, and I knew how to have fun. They chose to judge me on the opinions of others.

 

And the biggest of them all – when you are mentally ill and deteriorating, people want nothing to do with you. They only want to be around positive energy and those who are recovering.  It’s been the most sickening lesson of all in the past year or two…. as I have become more ill, people have talked to me less.

 

They don’t want to be around people who are depressed…. I heard as much on my therapy course two years ago – it was the thing that caused me to walk out the room until the break. Being mentally ill is tough enough without feeling people won’t want to be around you if you show how you feel.

 

I’ve spent years not showing my reality. Hiding my illness and depression behind a smile and a mask. I’d probably fit the profile of someone ‘high-functioning’. Not so much nowadays. Now my meltdowns are more public. I’m spiralling out of control and struggle to do life like before. I can’t pretend to be okay anymore. And people aren’t okay with that.

 

Even my best friend of about 13 years didn’t like my reality when she saw it. Yes I wore the mask for her too…. afraid I’d be alone if the reality of how I felt was known. I wasn’t being deliberately two-faced though. I knew no other way. I’m the person who got up after a BCG injection, gave a smile and said ‘thank you very much’. I’ve always wanted to be polite and to not make people feel uncomfortable. I don’t want to worry people or upset them, or bring them down. I’ve always felt like a burden. The fear of disappointing people or putting them out is the only thing that’s stopped me putting myself in hospital. The three times I’ve needed treatment were horrible for me emotionally. I felt so ashamed and guilty. But since the last two times – two years ago nearly – I’ve never really improved mentally. I have however become better at hiding things to some extent… usually until the point I explode. I’ve become more volatile…. unpredictable… unstable in my behaviour – because I’m trying to pretend to be better than I am, because I know nobody cares how I really am… but it’s harder to do now, so I very quickly slip into my ‘episodes’.

 

But it’s something I have noticed before – if you post about achievements despite your illness, or you talk about progress, people like it and encourage you. But if you say you’re not doing so well they give you a wide berth. Well they do with me for some reason. I notice they don’t with many other people. That’s why I think it’s personal against me specifically … being ignored is seriously increasing my paranoia… which makes me more ill… which makes people stay away even more. It’s a vicious circle.

 

We were taught about vicious circles in therapy, and about breaking them. The only way I can break my vicious circle is to miraculously not be mentally ill anymore! To not be traumatised! To pretend to be okay! I cannot and should not have to do this. People should care. And even if I did pretend to be okay now, it’s too late – these people will never be my friends. They’ve seen too much of me falling apart. The people in my life now will not want to know me anymore. It’s ruined. For good.

 

So I’m going to have to leave them all behind. I don’t see any of them begging me to stay in their lives. I won’t be missed. I’m alone anyway, so it won’t make any difference to me. I’ve been talking into a void for the last few months, with nobody noticing or replying to me, so I’ll keep talking to myself, like every sane and rational person does!

 

I don’t think any of these people I considered to be my friends will ever understand just how embarrassing and humiliating it has been to have such a public breakdown… to not be able to contain it…. to lose control of it and for it all to unravel and get worse and worse, and no matter what you say or do you cannot make it better again…. they don’t know what it’s like to feel like they’re all standing there watching me drown, and they’re not even considering reaching out a hand to save me. I think they’re willing me to drown. Alone. And that’s what I will do now.

 

I have a choice… I can choose these people, who don’t talk to me and don’t appear to care about me as a friend, or I can choose blogging. They’ve made my decision easier. I choose blogging. It may have caused a fuck-load of damage, but given there’s nothing left now – I’m so far down this path now I might as well keep going, these people aren’t here for me, the damage is done, I can never imagine liking myself again, let alone them liking me again, and the only one that’s ever been there for me, besides my friend who killed herself three months ago, is this damn blog. I choose the fucking blog.

 

Maybe one day my life will start afresh… with people who haven’t seen what a total freak I am…. people who care…. people who include me….. people who never leave me feeling I might as well be dead….. but then pigs might fly! I don’t see that happening. I don’t see anything other than blackness, screaming, pain and death. Nothing can undo these past few months. I can’t forget what I’ve experienced with people. And they won’t forget what they’ve witnessed in me. So there’s no hope of recovering anything that’s come before. The only hope I have, which I honestly can’t see at this point, is to build myself up as a new person, with new relationships. But this illness will always be a part of me. I fear I will never survive in this ‘social’ world as long as I have this illness. The pain is too much to bear. And I will never rid myself of the memories and scars of the past couple of years. You cannot escape the past. And my past will be the death of me.

 

 

 

 

Forget ’13’… My Endless Reasons Why.

All Truths Revealed

Personal rant, will definitely involve much effing and jeffing. And dark and potentially triggering material.

 

 

I am so invisible it really wouldn’t even matter what I write anymore. I am literally SCREAMING at people to help me, to notice me, to care, to be my friend, to save me as I don’t want to exist anymore… I am constantly screaming my feelings out in writing about how invisible I feel, and nobody notices and says anything….. because I’m invisible. So fuck it. No holding back now. Might as well throw all my feelings out there uncensored, as nobody will fucking read them anyway. And if they do none of them plan to talk to me ever again anyway. They’re happy to leave me feeling like a ghost until the point I choose to become one. So FUCK. IT.

 

Life has been unkind to me. I was lonely growing up. I was bullied. Fuck the bullies. Anyone who ever made me feel like I was an alien for being quiet. Anyone who picked on me because I was an ‘easy target’. Fuck you. I hope life dealt you a few blows as you grew up. To the guy who teased me about my hairy arms… fuck you. I shaved them for years after that. But now I’ve grown it back in the last six months or so, so you can go fuck yourself. To those who called me ‘spot’ and made fun of my hairiness at school and for not shaving – I was a fucking child, not a slut – you may have been grooming yourselves to sleep with boys, but I was never that way inclined. Plus it might please you to know there’s a term for what was ‘wrong’ with me at school – PCOS. Look it up. Educate your children not to fucking pick on someone for things like that…. don’t want them turning out to be bitches like you. For the girl who bullied me in front of a class every week – fuck you. You messed my life up forever. I hope karma hits you hard. For that class, and teacher, for allowing it to happen without defending me. Fuck you. You started a pattern in my life and made me feel I was completely worthless and invisible to everyone.

 

To the teacher who called me a stupid girl for burning my fingers in cookery class. Fuck you. You showed me up in front of a class in my first year of secondary school – no wonder one of my biggest triggers now is public humiliation!! To the teacher who told me off for going to my parents & head of year about her behaviour instead of her directly – fuck you! You should never have been a teacher, vile little troll. To the guitar teacher who was appalling at it, taught inappropriate songs, inappropriately flirted with one of the older students, and when reported, LIED, vindictively smeared me and my family – FUCK YOU!! I haven’t forgotten. You will pay for it one day when the truth is revealed.

 

To those at college who gave me ‘the look’…. that look that says ‘Oh God not her…. stay away from me’…. ‘weirdo…. I want nothing to do with you’ – fuck you all. You may not have liked me but that was the beginning of my mental health problems. I had just started self-harming. Would you have been less judgemental if you’d known what I was going through?

 

To the person who ran the art club I volunteered at, who often made me feel like shit… like I wasn’t doing good enough…. who used me… didn’t appreciate me… and made me feel like an utter freak for making a fucking mistake with the drinks – fuck you forever. That has never left me. You taught me I can’t make mistakes without needing to punish myself for it. I did. I cut myself in the corner of the hall, where kids could have seen me doing it. That’s on you bitch.

 

Fuck you to the bus driver who pretended to kidnap me, when I was the only one getting on that bus, at night time, alone. Lucky I dented my wall, and not your bus or your face.

 

To those in the office who made jokes about self-harm, ultimately making me feel uncomfortable to work with you anymore. Fuck you.

 

To Robbie, for leading me on, whilst secretly shagging Rachel, who kept giving me the evil eyes, yet is now married to a woman, and you then saying you weren’t ‘fannying me around’ during a difficult conversation, leading to me leaving FB and my life crashing into nothingness. Fuck you. And fuck her. You were supposed to be people who helped people like me. You set in motion things that would destroy me. I could’ve gone on to do great things if I hadn’t felt forced out by you two.

 

To Adam, for admitting you liked me, kissing me and then fucking off up north without so much as a goodbye. Ghosting me and giving up on our friendship. Treating me like I meant absolutely nothing to you. Fuck you!! Yeah, you were my first damn fucking kiss. You were my first experience with men, and that set me on a path of bad experiences with men, so that I now will never trust one ever again. I deserved better treatment than that, especially from someone I considered at the time to be one of my best friends.

 

To Evan for shagging that Hana girl in the two weeks before breaking up with me. For telling me not to make you feel guilty about that – fuck you. For breaking up with me instead of letting me be there for you. For stringing me along, hurting me, using me, telling me you couldn’t give me what I wanted and two days later being in a relationship with your now wife – fuck you. For getting back in touch with me three years ago, then suddenly unfriending me and never talking to me again, leaving me wondering what I’d done wrong – fuck you! But at least you once apologised to me for the hurt you caused me. It’s more than anyone else ever did.

 

To Joe, for completely obliterating my self-esteem, my faith in men and my ability to love. For using me. For playing with my feelings like it was a game, when I genuinely had feelings for you for some reason. For wasting my time and stopping me from seeing the one damn person right in front of me who could’ve been mine, had I not been caught in your web. FUCK YOU TO HELL! You broke me. I never want a relationship now because of you. I don’t trust men. I don’t believe a man could ever see anything in me now, other than an ego stroke and a sex object. But then I feel too fat and ugly now to even be seen as that thanks to you – you lost interest in me as I gained weight, and tried to palm me off onto one of your friends, obviously telling him how to try and get something out of me – ruining our friendship, as I most certainly don’t want anyone who ever reminds me of you and what you did to me. Fuck you. You stood me up so many times. You ran away. You ghosted me. You accused me of ‘overreacting’ to you cancelling – when you did it all the time and I have BPD you arsehole! So repeatedly rejecting / abandoning me would cause a reaction which is extremely normal. An overreaction would be keying your car or kicking you in the balls. I sent emotional messages. Get over yourself darling. You got off light. You made me feel cheap and worthless. You treated me like a whore, when I should be treated like a damn queen! Thank God you never had me and never will.

 

But fuck all you ‘men’ for making me feel there is nothing to value in me other than someone to stroke your egos, or something else. Why the fuck do men see women as objects rather than people with emotions and something to offer. Maybe it’s just me they do that with. I was a kind, loving, giving, down-to-earth, loyal woman. I had so much to offer. I was good ‘girlfriend’ if not ‘wife’ material once upon a time. And you all completely trashed that, so that I now don’t believe I’m good enough for a good man. Why did you not see and value the love I could give…. the kindness in me…. and treat me with respect?? Why did you treat me as though I was some cheap slut who you could play mind-games with?! WHY!? You treated me so badly that it brought out elements in me that you went on to demonise. You did that to me. You changed me in to something you didn’t like and then used it as a reason to ditch me, and ultimately I didn’t like what I became either. I’ve never learnt to like myself again since. So fuck you all.

 

Fuck you Lucy for being a pathological liar. You lied about everything, from having cancer, being raped, jobs in Italy, how Nick felt about me, and even your mum dying. I know she didn’t. I researched and found her online, alive and well. You’re a liar. You also never paid me back for a Westlife ticket. You’re a user and a thief. You took my intellectual property and uploaded it as your own. You didn’t take it down when asked. I should’ve taken action against you for that.

 

Fuck you Nick for being a dick. You took it out on me, when it was Hannah and Lucy stirring things … I was being told different things by different people. I just wanted you to talk to me yourself. I only heard through those two, and Hannah was being unpleasant at the time, so I thought Lucy had my back. She was a liar. I didn’t know that. She was a new friend! So to take it out on me like you did was shit. I made a mistake and you destroyed me for it. You ended that message by saying ‘How you think messaging me all the time is going to make me like you, I really don’t know’. To someone with BPD that is murder. I will never forgive you for that.

 

Fuck you Cheryl, for warning me off your ‘husband’ even though you two had separated and you were actually with another man yourself by then. How dare you do that to me? You scared the shit out of me, because I am not ‘the other woman’ and never would be! You made me feel like I was a bad person but I was simply having conversations with Joe  – you two were finished. You were doing it to try and ruin Joe’s life – I don’t blame you after what he did to you, but fuck you for taking that out on me, someone totally innocent, who would never hurt anyone.

 

Fuck you Jessica, for always picking fights with me about politics, just because you couldn’t accept a different opinion to yours. You made it personal too by saying it’s good I don’t have any children – FUCK YOU TO HELL! You have no idea how that felt. My granddad had just died, and I was so upset that I was the only one of his grandchildren to have not got married…. I wished so much he could’ve met my future babies… it hurts me that it will never happen, and he won’t even be at my wedding let alone meet them. Within two months of losing him you were saying that. I also may struggle to conceive. I also likely won’t ever find anyone to have those children with. It was a very raw nerve. It was low of you to strike it like that. You were a child. I hope you’ve grown up since, though I highly doubt it. That was the shittiest thing a ‘friend’ did to me publicly online.

 

Fuck the ‘trauma therapist’ who traumatised me by publicly shaming me on Twitter because I was triggered due to past trauma. Fuck ‘Mouse’ and all those other pricks on Twitter last year, who attacked me for defending Boris… calling me a racist and stupid, and a troll even though I was posting on my own feed.. a troll posts on others’ posts to pick a fight. If anything they were the trolls. Intolerant lefty remoaner bastards. Fuck remoaners to hell and beyond. Fuck lefties. Fuck people. Fuck ‘democrats’ in America – they have Trump Derangement Syndrome, just as we have people suffering Brexit Derangement Syndrome here. That stupid woman (??) patronising and shaming me, calling me an arrogant know-it-all etc. for standing up against mental health stigma. Fuck her forever. Showed the vile nature of their side of the debate. Made me hate Americans after that. At least they’re not all deranged like her. But she fucking almost killed me. Screw the intolerant bastards who talk about tolerance, peace, inclusivity etc. and claim to be the decent people, when they treat others like that for having a different view to theirs – one day all lefties will realise they are on the wrong side of history and have behaved appallingly. Fuck them all.

 

Fuck you Gill. You never told me you liked Sam. I confided in you alone that I liked him. You waited until I was most definitely out of the country, you broke up with your partner, moved home and within a couple of days you were having your first date with Sam. You didn’t tell me for two weeks – after I’d seen you both together twice. The second time I was a third wheel and didn’t even know it! You knew it would hurt me. You knew what you would do, but gave me no opportunity to do anything about it. If you were any kind of friend you would’ve been encouraging me to tell him how I felt about him, not plotting to steal him when I was powerless and out of the country. I fucking hate you for this. You do not deserve my forgiveness. You’ve been married about three years (??) now…. I still don’t wish you well. You destroyed everything I had in my life. You took away my group of friends and kept them for yourself. You made me have to start again, only I haven’t been able to. I’ve never been able to rebuild my life or trust friends ever again because of you! You took away my trust, my hope, any future I might’ve had. You totally destroyed my beautiful friendship I was forming with Sam. You didn’t have to be with him. You didn’t have to latch on to the nearest single guy. You could’ve been alone for five minutes. I was happy for you that you broke up with your guy. You could’ve let someone else experience not being alone for a fucking minute, but no…. selfish. AND you clearly discussed my interest in Sam with Hannah, as she kept hinting to me that she didn’t like any guys she knew at the time, and it always coincided with times I talked to you about him. So when you claimed to her that you didn’t know I liked him, you lied. You knew, as you talked to her about it. You broke my trust in every way possible. Yes I miss you, but you didn’t fucking deserve my friendship.

 

Fuck you Sam… for just taking Gill up on her offer instead of waiting for me. Obviously you two are happy now, so you clearly had no interest in someone like me… despite being interested in my best friend who I thought was similar to me. I kept hearing that you did like me I just refused to see it. I see it now in the things you used to say to me. But I couldn’t see it at the time. I was new to men. I was low in confidence. I needed and deserved a guy to man up and ask me out. So fuck you for staying quiet. Fuck you also for the way you responded when I poured my heart out to you. You raved about your now wife and told me there was no betrayal, when you wouldn’t fucking know, because you benefitted from that betrayal. You don’t understand shit like that. She broke the code. She DID betray me. You had no right to invalidate me and say it wasn’t a betrayal. I had just lost EVERYTHING because of Gill. I was heartbroken. I had lost you. I found the courage to admit the truth to you, even knowing there was no hope as you were taken. I told you what your friendship meant to me… how much I’d miss you. I wished you well Sam. You said absolutely NOTHING of the sort to me. You ranted at me about how you thought you’d always be the awkward loser, a back-up nice guy, a boring stable man, blah blah blah… you didn’t have to be Sam! I was right there, another awkward fucking loser! Now I’ll be alone forever. If nice guys don’t even want me then there must be something seriously fucked up about me. I give up. You didn’t say you’d miss me, or that you wished me well, or anything to indicate you ever valued me as a friend. You talked about Gill being a ‘good strong friend’ – 1. Was I not?? And 2. Yes she was… until she stabbed me in the back. You only knew her for two months, I’d been friends with her over three years. So I think I knew her a bit better than you did, and your description of her didn’t match her. It matched me. And then when I first saw you at Lou and Scott’s wedding, before the wedding I said hello, and you blanked me. You hardly spoke to me. It was plain fucking rude and hurtful, and I had to text my mum about it as I was so upset! I thought you were a good guy, but the way you spoke to me when I was falling apart, having just lost everything, having expressed sadness at losing you, and the fact you even chose someone like Gill tells me you never deserved me. You were not as nice as you seemed. Your fucking loss, but nobody else’s gain. All men have seen to that.

 

And bloody hell fuck you Hannah. The Queen Bitch. The one who destroyed everything I had left in my life. You started it in fact. You always threw hissy fits when I tried to help with travel arrangements for the group. You always brought our disagreements to the attention of the rest of the group. You wrote statuses about ‘people being immature for writing statuses rather than talking directly to someone’, and then whenever I tried to talk directly to you about things, you said ‘I’m not discussing this anymore’, ‘It’s only an issue for you’, ‘You’re making an issue out of nothing’. How fucking dare you? Do you know that invalidating someone with BPD is about the worst fucking thing you can do to them?! I know you didn’t know I had it. But you should’ve done. And you would’ve done had I  felt able to trust you in regards to my mental health. But I remember a time you said the help I was getting wasn’t enough… that I needed more help. That you were worried my posts were a cry for help and I’d try and kill myself. You were blunt. You were something that rhymes with that too. I reserve that word only for the worst of people I’ve met. You upset me, then invalidated and shut me down. You removed yourself from the group message and started another one, excluding me, where you then talked about me… I know, Lou showed me your messages. I somehow ended up getting the blame, with Gill saying we needed to sort it out so they wouldn’t have to see you one time, then me, then you… when YOU were the one telling them that we couldn’t sort things out – which happened to be because you refused to listen to me and be nice. You didn’t tell them that did you?? You said to me that I needed to move on, stop making an issue out of things and making things awkward for our friends. I LET YOU HAVE MY FUCKING FRIENDS!! I knew I couldn’t compete with you, so I backed away, missed out on a lot and let you have my friends. That’s right Hannah – MY friends. Lou was my friend. Gill was my friend. You only fucking met them because of me! And what a fucking mistake that was. Look at the trouble it caused me introducing you to my two best friends. I had a right to talk to my best friends about what was upsetting me. They were my only friends, so I couldn’t go to uninvolved friends like you could. You had no right to restrict who I spoke to about your abuse of me. As it turned out nobody stood up for me or told you to fucking apologise to me, did they? No… I got the blame. I always get the blame. Oh until YOU blamed Gill for stirring between us and being a bad influence on you. Then you apologised to me, ditched Gill and became my friend… for a few weeks, before having a pop at me for nothing, blocking me… and when I showed sadness that it seemed like only one of us wanted our friendship (me), you launched into an attack about all the things I had apparently done… accusing you of going after Nick, then Sam, you said I make life difficult for myself by letting things get to me, you said I always seem to have a lot going on (on a day I was going for my first MRI of my brain), and the truth is everyone does, it’s just how you deal with it – that I’m very different to you…. then you accused ME of bitching about you to Gill, when it 100% never happened. There was no evidence it had. Besides I didn’t bitch, not in those days. You brought out the bitch after all that drama. Gill was the one to say things about you, so I figured you must’ve been right about her stirring…. so a year later I reached out to you to make amends and clear the story up. You refused to listen or speak to me. You messaged Lou, involving her just before her wedding, telling me through her that you didn’t want to hear from me again, and all the blocking you again and again, the negativity, not having any trust and criticising you as a friend, it’s not the sort of friend you ‘wont’ in your life. That wasn’t on that you bitched to my only friend about me. So I messaged you directly… I had to – Lou refused to defend and help me. She just replied ‘okay’… Should’ve been a red flag that she liked you and didn’t have my back. I asked you not to involve Lou, but you ignored that and carried on, telling her the reason you were so distant with her, was that I still wouldn’t ‘leave you alone’ and you were trying to make it so I couldn’t contact you. You were a drama queen Hannah… I sent you three messages in total. You were unreasonable, immature, disrespectful in the manner you dealt with it, and I had a right to defend myself given what you did. I was never going to get in touch again. I made that perfectly clear. You should’ve drawn a line under my last message to you. But you just had to have the last say didn’t you….. and well done…. it all ended up making Lou mad with ME! I had started ‘stressing her out’ before the wedding, even though I was the fucking one defending HER and asking you to leave her out of it…. nice that.

 

You two became friends again in 2016… given the shit you put me through and the trauma I experienced back then, it rightly upset and unnerved me. It drove a wedge between Lou and I. That’s not your fault. That’s Lou’s fault for how she handled it. I’ll come to that. But you blocked her when she oh so selflessly picked me and totally didn’t make me feel guilty about it!! And as soon as I was no longer Lou’s friend, there you were, or rather there SHE was on YOUR friend list. I’d wish her luck with you but sadly I no longer care… she clearly thinks the sun shines out your arse, just like everyone else believed while you were bullying me. Butter wouldn’t melt kind of smile. They never saw the bitch I was subjected to on many occasions. She’s chosen you over me. She’s welcome to you, as you are to her.

 

Wow, that was a long one. Well you did kind of ruin the last friendship I had, by putting doubts in it. Which leads me on to Lou. God I wish I was never having to write shit about you. I never thought you’d be this person you’ve become. The way you handled the Hannah thing in 2016 absolutely sucked. It was the start of my mental health deteriorating. My mum had been ill in the run-up to it all, and our falling out was in the lead-up to my granddad getting sick. It was not a good time. Anyway, Hannah reappeared. I was in distress. I wanted to end my suffering – I was feeling suicidal as a result, anxious, sick, crying all the time. I felt betrayed by you. I didn’t give you a fucking ‘ultimatum’. In fact I very clearly said I’m not going to tell you what to do. I just wanted you to show some ounce of caring, emotion and sympathy for how I was feeling. But it was like you couldn’t compute why I felt how I did. It was as though you thought I was making it up in order to try and ‘control’ you.  You said yourself that you didn’t think things were that bad between me and Hannah. That says it all. You didn’t BELIEVE me! How do you think that felt?? You were also invalidating my experience, like Hannah did… can you understand how that felt, given we were talking about Hannah! The problem with you was that it felt like you were putting your desire to not be told what to do, ahead of my wellbeing and our friendship of over a decade…. I couldn’t understand why MY friend from school who you hardly knew, was that important to you that you would jeopardise our friendship. It took you way too long to do the ‘right thing’, and even when you did that you made me feel guilty that you ‘did that for me’. You said you never wanted to talk about Hannah again as you couldn’t cope with it. Fuck you! How do you think I felt?! Why did it upset you so much?? Was it because I had made you do something you didn’t want to do, because of my reaction to emotional trauma? Or was it because you felt bad? Was it because you really loved Hannah as a friend? Even though she had blocked you for no reason, for two whole years…. I still cannot understand your devotion to Hannah. Friends are loyal. And they don’t make you feel guilty when they do something for you. The way you handled all of that really put question marks on our friendship. I think you held it against me ever since. It’s evident because you added her as a friend as soon as you dumped me.

 

I felt I couldn’t confront issues with you. Just like I couldn’t with Hannah. You might not have done what Hannah did – saying it was only my issue, move on, etc. but you gave me silence, and you stored up resentment and got ‘wound up’ when I expressed hurt. You turned it round to make it seem like I had hurt you by expressing that I was hurt! I couldn’t talk to you. Friends should be able to discuss issues without fearing losing the other.

 

So many of our problems came from my feelings of inferiority – feeling I wasn’t good enough to call you my friend. Being scared of losing your friendship or being replaced. I was ill last year… having a breakdown. I was grieving. You abandoned me at the lowest point in my life until this year. You misinterpreted a blog I wrote and attacked me for it, making me cut myself worse than ever, and having me calling the Samaritans at 1am. You pinned all blame on me, absolved yourself of any wrongdoing and said things would never be the same again…. what, because of your misunderstanding and my mental health symptoms?? You didn’t like me anymore after seeing what mental illness can do to a person? Yeah? Well then I fucking did deserve better than you. You were so concerned with what others would think of you after that blog, that you didn’t even stop to question if any of it was true, or how I felt. You didn’t give a shit about me. Just appearances.

 

I understand you had your own shit going on, but that was no excuse for the way you treated me… neglecting me all year, making me feel like a burden, rejecting me, blaming me and taking it all out on me just because you couldn’t cope with anything else…. that wasn’t my fault that you were having issues I knew nothing about, because you cut me out of your life! Just like if you and I were having issues you shouldn’t take it out on your husband, family, or other friends, if you were having problems with other people you shouldn’t have taken it out on me. Not at a time I was suicidal and isolated. That was unfair of you. I got the blame for issues you had with certain other people, but it was your fault for not dealing with things better – don’t blame me for causing arguments just because you can’t communicate maturely with people in your life. I did not cause you and this person to argue more. I have been blamed for that twice now. I will not accept that blame. It’s not my fault. The fault lies with you and your inability to deal with things properly and communicate between you.

 

I reached out to you, despite how shit you made me feel. I wrote at Christmas and sent the kids and you presents. You didn’t open them. You didn’t give your kids the presents I had taken the time and effort to make and choose for them. Who the fuck does that?  Involving the kids in an argument?! You don’t take it out on the fucking kids. You were saying you’d feel guilty keeping it all if we were to end things here – this tells me two things…. firstly you may have felt guilty for not giving me anything, and you have an issue with the feeling of guilt – that’s why you blame me and others, so you don’t have to feel guilty… hm… but that’s your issue… you need to learn to tolerate guilt and stop making others feel it instead… and secondly that you had it in your mind at that point that we were done. You had already given up on me. It was rude that you never acknowledged receiving them. You never thanked me for them, other than in your final message to me, saying that you received the parcels thanks, but… I take it you never did open them and just threw them away…. that or you thought they were shit, as I never once got a thank you for any of it, from anyone. That was awful of you. You totally snubbed me over Christmas – no card, no text, nothing. Fuck you for making me feel invisible. I’ve not been able to make myself be seen again ever since. I don’t exist anymore thanks to you. I felt invisible all last year – that was the problem. You were an absent friend…. as was everyone else…. I needed my friends, instead you neglected and abandoned me. So how dare you go out of your way to make me feel the most invisible I ever have?! I won’t forgive you now.

 

Because after Christmas I did the fucking running and chased you up, as I wanted to be able to move on. You started talking to me, but kept saying things like you weren’t sure what was best; you didn’t know if we could survive this etc. You seemed to think we’d sort it out better in the future (at least I think that’s what I translated from your message), as we’re both too stressed now. I wasn’t stressed. I was falling apart because of you. Because you were abandoning me. I was losing you and my Godchildren… the only good things left in my life. That wasn’t stress. It should translate as ‘I’m too stressed to deal with you – and always will be’. Yes I was ill and I was grieving. And you thought it’s best to leave me until a time I’m not under the pressures of those things?? Leave me alone to deal with it?? You abandoned me when I was grieving, and having a breakdown… who does that?? You’re wrong that we can sort it out in the future. You can’t just end things on that note with me, run away because you’re too stressed to deal with it, and then approach me (or more likely with you, wait for me to approach YOU – won’t happen) in a few months / years and pick up where we left off…. no… you left me feeling hated. You ABANDONED me, because of my mental illness. I can’t just forget that. I can’t forget the things you’ve done out of spite. And you’ve destroyed my bond with the kids. I can’t forgive that. I’ve missed eighteen months already…. and what, you want to leave this another year or two or whatever, and then sort it out?? I will never forgive you for taking them out of my life, giving me something else to grieve on top of my granddad, losing Liv and losing you. Nothing can buy back the time I’ve lost with them.  C used to look forward to seeing me. Now she won’t even know who I am! Do you not understand how utterly crushing that is?? I saw me being in their lives forever. I saw you being there forever. I was a forever sort of friend. And you pissed it all away as though I meant nothing to you.

 

You showed so much hesitation about sorting things out with me. But the problem was whilst you were doing that, you were posting about your wonderful times with everyone else but me. You increased the amount you did this, after I blogged about my paranoia and insecurity about just that sort of thing. So I think you did that vindictively. I couldn’t afford to see any more of that. So I suggested unfriending you, so you could be free to post about them and I wouldn’t get hurt. So that I could focus on my mental health and paranoia. But you could get in touch when ready. I wanted you to agree with my idea. You blocked me without a word. Fuck you. You knew that would hurt me. What the hell were you playing at?!

 

You then removed yourself from my Facebook group, after hearing from Scott that it would hurt me. That was done with malice and immaturity. There is no other good explanation for doing that.

 

And you’re friends with Hannah again now – is that why you blocked me, so I wouldn’t see?? Had you stayed friends throughout and been lying to me? Or did she unblock you, see we weren’t friends and ask about it and you two became bosom buddies again? You’re welcome to each other. You’re the same person now. You’re no longer like me. You’re like her. Just more covert. Either Hannah really was that important to you, or you wanted to send a ‘fuck you’ message to me now you were free to do what you wanted. It hurt. It was lousy. You should’ve been focusing on how to resolve things with me, not doing everything in the book to make things worse between us.

 

Then when Liv took her own life I reached out to you, as if that had happened to you I would still want you to know I cared and would be there. Well, I would have. I talked to Scott. You unblocked me. But the next day I had doubts as I couldn’t face being hurt by you anymore. And knowing you and Hannah were friends again complicated things and would’ve been a stumbling block. I couldn’t afford to deal with that as well as the grief. As soon as you found out about my uncertainty you re-blocked me… hurting me – just what I couldn’t afford to feel. Who blocks someone like that a day after they’ve lost someone to suicide? You apparently. Or the you you’ve become. We did talk by text a couple of times, where you asked if there was anything you could do – hard to answer when you were no longer willing to be my friend. It felt empty and distant. So that was that. You never checked up on me after that. We’re finished.

 

Oh and you moved house without telling me a thing about it. Bye by the way. Kind of like what Adam did to me – except you might not have moved up north… I have no clue where you are or what you’re doing anymore.  I can’t write to you now. I can’t message you online. Old phone’s dead. I guess you really are free of me finally. That’s what you always wanted. You just wanted me to be the one to make the call so you didn’t look bad. Fuck you.

 

Anytime I’ve tried to set the story straight and make amends with people they have refused to listen, and stuck to their misconceptions. I tried to make things better with Hannah, she went to Lou and said she didn’t want to hear from me again. I tried to make things better with Lou, she got ‘wound up’ and didn’t think our friendship would work anymore. Nobody has allowed me closure. Nobody has had the decency to give me a conversation before walking out of my life. They’ve all either ghosted me or slapped me with a ton of harsh words and false accusations, before slamming the door in my face.

 

You have all killed me. I’ve had to bear all of this, whilst working through health problems – physical and mental. I’ve had family illnesses, where my parents both ended up in hospital within 10 months of each other. My granddad also got ill in between that and eventually passed away 8 months later. The family fell apart after that, because of someone who still hasn’t apologised over two years later…. we never spoke again and never will at this rate. I had a breakdown at my group therapy two years ago almost, and have gone downhill since then – I experienced ‘transference’ with one of the therapists, so it destroyed me when the course ended and I lost him. I haven’t recovered. I just stuff it down, and it comes out in my dreams instead. Now my only friend I had left took her own life almost three months ago, which I cannot cope with. But have to cope with alone, as everyone’s pretending I don’t exist. I’m doing a charity walk this month, which I just finished on Saturday – having done over 26.2 miles, ‘raising money’ for the Samaritans… haven’t raised a penny. Nobody gives a fuck about me, my feelings, my grief, how alone I feel, about Liv… I just don’t exist. And nobody valued her enough to sponsor me. It wasn’t about me. It was about her. But it’s made me feel so isolated and invisible now, so what was the point?? I will be donating the whole amount of my target by myself now. That or writing to them to apologise that nobody cares enough to acknowledge me or help me. The only people who might’ve done it were Liv and Lou…. Lou abandoned me. Liv is dead. Both happened this year. So I have nothing left. I knew them both at least 13 years… my two longest friendships…. gone…. that’s two extremely traumatic losses. I don’t think anyone gets that. Nobody seems to have acknowledged or validated what I’m having to deal with right now. And I’m trying my hardest… I’ve even tried offering words of support to others, and been completely blanked by them, as if I’m invisible. I wish people could understand how hard it is to just breathe right now…. to go on living. I wish they’d show some appreciation that I’m trying, or acknowledge my existence. I feel I’m dead myself now. Anyway I had to travel on my own to a place I’d never been, to go and say goodbye to Liv…. not knowing if it was even okay for me to go…. but I had to be there. I was meant to see her five weeks later. I never got to see her again. I had to see her and say goodbye. But that was hard. I am so alone.

 

It’s unfair that she died when she did. She seemed happy at last. I was going to see her a month later, at last, for something we were both excited for. She couldn’t hold on that long. I never got to see her again. I never got to hug her. I wasn’t given the opportunity to save her. She abandoned me. Just like everyone else has.  It’s unfair that my ‘best friend’ abandoned me and didn’t even care enough to make things right after that happened. All these people wouldn’t even blink if I followed in Liv’s footsteps. That’s how little I matter in the world. This isn’t just my illness telling me nobody cares…. not anymore….. this is reality. Nobody cares. Or they’ll care too late.

 

Fuck anyone who used to like me before I became this ill, and who is now wary of me… fuck you. All I needed was your love and support….. to be made to feel I wasn’t an awful person…. that you understood me and weren’t going to leave me….. to feel I mattered and was visible. I understand mental illness isn’t attractive…. my outbursts, my words, everything… it’s not pretty and can be scary… but I didn’t choose this. This is illness mixed with a shit load of awful people who did awful things to me in the last ten years and in my childhood. Being left alone because of all that, it’s gut-wrenching. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. If you used to like me, but now don’t then fuck you. You could’ve helped me. But you all sat back and watched me self-destruct. You did this to me. You can’t blame me for what I’ve become as a result of you not giving a fuck about my existence.

 

Fuck anyone who has an issue with me writing this post. You are a part of the problem. Cause and effect…. you are the cause, this is the effect. You have no idea how much I’ve held in, for your sakes… how much I’m still holding back. If you didn’t want me to write this then perhaps you should have treated me better and thought more about our relationship than your own damn ego. All of you combined have created this monster of truth that you’ll all hate for speaking out. But honestly, how much did you really think I could take of people shitting on me, ditching me, silencing me, before I’d explode..? You can’t expect me to deal with all this totally alone. The alternative to this was quietly going off to die. I know some of you would prefer I did that, as you care more about how you look to others, than the devastating damage you have caused me.

 

Fuck anyone who ever made me beg for anything! I had to beg throughout school to hang around with people…. I had to beg to go in a limo at the prom, and was rejected on the grounds of being ‘boring’. I had to beg guys to talk to me when they were ghosting me. I’ve had to beg people to tell me they care about me, miss me, to show me friendship. I’ve had one person mentioned in here want me to be someone who begs for things. They want that sort of control over someone. NEVER. That was the point I realised I will never do that or be that person. I will never let anyone, particularly a man ‘tell me what to do’. I will never be in an unequal relationship – we’ll be partners, give and take, and I will never have to beg a guy for anything – he’ll shower me with love, care, affection, respect and support. If I cannot have this then I’ll settle for having nothing, as I have the last few years. I will not be controlled by anyone. I will not be made to feel less deserving and as worthless as that person made me feel. I will not have to ask for these very basic needs to be fulfilled. Either there is someone out there only too willing to give these things to me freely, without ulterior motives, or all men are sex-addicted pricks and will never deserve me. And I will die alone, having never experienced the love of a man.

 

I’m now starting to realise I have no friends. I’m done begging. I’m going to go silent now. I’ll write on here, but nobody acknowledges me anymore… at a time I really need a friend, due to everything that’s happened this year. Nobody’s stepped up. So I’m done begging for friends. I’ll probably cry about the fact I’m alone, and I’ll whinge about how nobody cares etc. But I’m no longer asking them to be friends to me when all I get back is radio silence. It’s so painful to be on the end of that, when others get support when they cry out for help….. it’s so painful it makes me want to rip my own heart out and put my hand through a brick wall.

 

When you grow up lonely, have to beg for friendship, you’re bullied, you make friends who all go on to hurt and betray and abandon you, guys reject and abandon you, everyone ‘ghosts’ you, everyone starts dying around you, you’re stuck in a bubble of isolation and mental illness, tackling the battlefield of grief alone, you lose someone to suicide whilst trying not to kill yourself already because of everything else, and then you reach out for support, from anyone, and all there is, is silence….. that bubble of isolation violently bursts and you fall to the ground, every bone in your body breaking at once. You can’t get up or move. You’re powerless. You can’t breathe. You will your heart to stop beating. This is how it feels to be me now. I don’t want to live.

 

Nobody sponsored me. Nobody talks to me on Facebook, Twitter, here. I don’t have offline friends now. My world is closing in. I’m right back to where I was when I first got mentally ill after school. I’m alone. But it’s so much worse than that… because of everything I’ve been through since then. I thought it was the end back then. But nothing had really happened in my life. I hadn’t had my heart trampled on over and over again. I hadn’t had guys toy with my emotions and destroy my self-worth. I didn’t have friends who I trusted who betrayed and abandoned me. I hadn’t lost anyone. I was young and thin and had a whole life ahead of me. Now…. who knows. I feel like my life is over.

 

I’ve just had a two week ‘break’… but didn’t really have time to stop and sit and process stuff. The one day I did, I spent all day writing about my feelings, forgot to take my medication and ended up harming myself. So I have come to realise that it’s better to not stop. Not stopping may lead to overloading my mind and having a full nervous breakdown, like I was on the verge of two weeks ago…. but the other option is I have to sit and feel everything that’s happened… and I have nobody to help me with that now. I’m alone. I can’t afford to let it in, as it’s too monstrous… it would consume me. Either way I’m doomed.

 

And I’m not allowed to talk about it. I’m not allowed to write on my blog as it hurts others’ feelings…. fuck that and fuck them. What the fuck about MY feelings for a change?? Ever thought about those?? No. Exactly. So fuck you. If I talk about stuff then people get mad about it and use it as a reason to not know me anymore. If I don’t talk about it, it gets bottled up and explodes later in a worse way, plus I never have real relationships with people, as they’ve made it so I can’t approach them directly! So everything is fake…. all friendships have issues…. you use them to make you stronger, not make you drift apart. But if you can’t be honest with each other then it’s not a real friendship.

 

I’m just done with life. I’m done being me. I’m done with reality. All last year I was floating in a bubble of dissociation. Nothing felt real. I felt disconnected from everything and everyone. I felt invisible and isolated. Unless you’ve experienced dissociation you cannot know what that’s like, and for the reaction to reaching out of the bubble, to be that of anger, blame and shaming me for blogging… fuck, that hurts. Now if I’m in a bubble (which I know I said burst – but it’s like two realities at once – one I’m broken on the floor, the other I’m still floating around), I’m in a bubble within a bubble within a bubble. I cannot be reached. I definitely cannot be seen….. HELLO BITCHES!! … see, nobody would see I’ve written that. If anyone sees I’ve posted a blog, they won’t read it. If they do they’d have given up by now…. just like they all give up on me.

 

On the off-chance anyone is still reading, thank you so much for seeing me, and for tolerating such atrocious language and anger. I’m sorry. This has been a long time coming. I’ve held back a lot for a long time. And the pain I’m feeling right now is out of this world. It’s strange…. it’s like feeling overwhelming pain yet feeling numb at the same time. Again, like two things exist at once. I think the reality is that it all hurts too much that I shield myself from it, and feel numb as a consequence. But I’m numb because I feel too much…. not because I feel nothing. I wish I felt nothing. I wish I remembered nothing. I already don’t remember my childhood. I don’t have any happy memories of being a kid. Not because I didn’t have any. From what I can see in photos I had a wonderful upbringing. I don’t know why I can’t remember any of it. I can’t connect to the photos I see of me. It’s like they’re someone else. I guess maybe that would explain not really knowing who I am. How can you, when you rely on stories told by others about you. I have snapshots of things – but they’re always the bad things that happened…. like being picked on at school… but I don’t know my reaction to it… all I have to go on is what my mum tells me. I don’t remember much at all. I think there’s something wrong with my mind. All I remember are traumatic moments. The rest just vanishes. Even the Westlife concert I went to a few weeks ago… I barely remember it now. It’s fading away. It’s why I take as many photos of things as I can. To remember. But even then I can’t remember being there or how I felt. But these damn bad memories just play over and over again, relentlessly. And the pain I feel as a result, that’s not something I’ll forget anytime soon. Why can’t I forget the bad and remember the good? I have no good stories to tell people. I can’t remember them. All I feel is hurt and pain. Loss. Mental illness. Trauma. I wish I could forget all these awful people and the things they did to me. I wish I could be me, and know who that is. I’ve completely lost it somewhere along the line – changing to make others like me, after years of not being accepted at school. And then all those experiences mentioned above, have further changed me. I don’t know who I am anymore. It’s scary right now. Nothing feels real. I don’t feel real. I don’t want to be real. I don’t know who I am. I cannot trust anyone. I have nobody to talk to. No support. I don’t feel grounded. I have no reason to live anymore. I’m grieving the loss of someone who didn’t want to live anymore. Nobody knows how I really feel. Nobody would even care. Everyone leaves. I’m not meant for this world. What has been the point of all this pain…?

 

 

 

 

Unbearable Pain & Depression.

*Suicide references & as it became a rant towards the end, a lot of very bad language, I’m sorry*
*Will likely offend those who know me, in one way or another*

 

 

Yesterday I was grouchy. Today it’s mainly sadness and depression.

 

I’m not coping with life anymore. I really feel like I’m living in a bubble….or even the cliché ‘dark cloud / fog’, which is often used to describe depression. There is nothing positive about life anymore, not for me. There is nothing safe about it. I feel so scared, so alone, so fragile and broken, and so hopeless.

 

It’s been this way since my granddad died. That changed everything for me. Ever since then things have continued to get worse and worse…. I’ve faced so much more loss since then, and there’s no light left. There’s no point to anything anymore. Life is loss, illness, pain and death. There is no joy. There’s no love. There’s no hope or reason. It’s just all black.

 

There are so many things I’m meant to be doing at the moment…. I haven’t even reached out for the beginnings of help I need, as I feel so paralysed by grief and depression right now. I can’t start any of the things I’m meant to be doing. I don’t want to go out again. I don’t want to work. I didn’t today. I couldn’t. I had to take diazepam last night because of how awful I felt. I can’t face pretending to feel better than I do. I can’t face being around people, triggers … And the monotony of life – the fact it goes on and on, particularly after significant losses, it’s too much to cope with. I want life to stop for a while… let me catch up mentally with all the chaos and the trauma. I want a break from it all. I don’t want to just carry on. I can’t. I’m falling apart. And nobody’s even noticing.

 

Life changed forever in 2017 after my first major loss. After that, nothing felt certain anymore. Everything was flat, harsh, heavy, dark and pointless. I battled on. I had no other choice. I had group therapy. It made me worse. I faced another loss as a result. Last year the full effects of grief kicked in, after medication wore off. Nobody was there for the first anniversary, bar one. I isolated myself as a result. I was neglected by people, even my best friend. I had been crying out for help and support, and friendship. I used the only voice I had left – this blog. I couldn’t reach out to anyone anymore. This was my only outlet. Rather than being praised for using the only tool I had to reach out for help, I was attacked for blogging about my feelings, when they concerned my best friend. She was committed to misunderstanding me. She doesn’t understand mental illness and doesn’t even try. She couldn’t understand why I did the things I did.

 

I had paranoia. I still have it. But not as intensely as last year. Either that or I’m delusional and paranoid, and don’t even know that things aren’t real anymore. Doesn’t feel that way though. I have no evidence to the contrary. Anyway, my mental illness pushed my friend away. She gave up on me. She abandoned me, right at a time I needed care and support. She gave me more loss to deal with – hers and the kids…. the one reason I had to live besides my own family. I’ve not seen them for almost eighteen months. I’ve not seen her for over a year. It’s over.

 

It hurts, because I was ill. … I couldn’t help that. My mind wasn’t my own. It still isn’t a lot of the time now. I had been calling out for her friendship, yet she chose to interpret it as me not wanting her friendship, so pulled away more. When I talked about my paranoia, how it manifested through apparent jealousy and possessiveness, but wasn’t really that – it was insecurity, low self-esteem, thinking she didn’t care about me – she clearly didn’t get this, and started to do things that triggered that paranoia more than ever before. She cut me out of her life. I am aware that she is moving or has moved house…. don’t know when or where to. I’ve been left out of the loop for about a year now at least. For all I know she could be going to the other end of the country, without a goodbye or closure. Could be down the road… who knows? That’s the point!

 

She got offended at my blog and had a go at me for it, while I was in the midst of a breakdown. That blog had been my only means of communication. It was intended to help the situation and stop us never talking again. It clearly backfired. But the intention was good, so to be attacked for it was upsetting. More than upsetting – I had to call the Samaritans that night as I didn’t want to live anymore. Over the next month I calmed down. My position shifted from never wanting to hear from her again, to having compassion and understanding for her…. I wrote to her and sent Christmas presents etc. – she completely snubbed me. No card. No text. No thank you. Not even acknowledgement of receiving the presents. Found out a month later (after I had to chase her up again), that she never opened anything. She didn’t give the kids the presents I’d bought / made for them. I’ll never forgive that. Taking it out on the kids. That’s wrong. I’m never bothering with any of them anymore. I’m done.

 

After chasing her up, she wasn’t sure if she wanted us to be friends again or not. She wasn’t ready, and wasn’t sure it could be like it was before. She had said to me last year that ‘nothing will ever be the same now’… so in effect nothing was ever going to be the same after that comment. What, all because of my mental illness?? This was telling me that she couldn’t see me the same anymore… the biggest fear of letting people in on how bad my mental health had become. If she was saying things couldn’t be the same, because of the things I did last year – things that came as a result of my ill state of mind…. then she was basically saying she couldn’t forgive me my mistakes made due to mental illness. It was saying to me that she obviously would never forgive me for anything – even in a good state of mind…. if she cannot even forgive it in an ill state of mind, when my mind wasn’t my own – then what hope is there? We all have to be perfect all the time…. one strike and you’re out. Is that it?

 

If it’s that things would never be the same, because of her behaviour, that’s different. If she felt ashamed of how she spoke to me and felt bad for abandoning me when I needed her…. I could understand that, and how she might find it hard to look me in the eye again. I’d get that. But she needed to convey that to me, that she felt to blame if that was the case. She needed to say she couldn’t be my friend and that I deserved someone who could be my friend. She needed to say something, anything that didn’t make it seem she was blaming me. The fact she didn’t do that tells me she does blame me. And if that’s the case then I can’t understand it. I honestly cannot understand what the hell I ever did to deserve being treated the way I was. I was unwell. I am still unwell, but I have fought bloody hard in the last six months, to scrape my way back to who I am. Nobody will ever know how hard it has been to keep on living this year, totally alone.

 

Her behaviour this year has been worse than last year if that’s possible. She was indecisive about whether to sort things out with me. I pushed through my mental illness, my paranoia and my isolation in order to not lose her – in order to fight for our friendship of thirteen or so years. I thought she was worth it. She was like a sister to me. Clearly she didn’t feel the same about me. This makes me sad. I respected she needed more time for whatever reason, but I had to put my mental health first and suggested I would unfriend her for the time being. That way she was free to be herself and post what she wanted, but I didn’t have to tolerate being hurt by it… I didn’t have to see her rave about her better friends, whilst neglecting me. It felt like a sensible idea. She obviously didn’t like that idea, and instantly blocked me as a result. She blocked me on another account too. She then took herself out of my Facebook group, after hearing it would upset me. And then she added a past mutual friend who drove a wedge between us three years ago now. I recently found the letter my friend wrote, where she said that she ‘didn’t know adding __________ would cause us to not talk for so long’. So either she didn’t learn, or she was doing it deliberately to spit in my face, now she was free of me.

 

My heart lurches at the things she’s done, and the vindictiveness that I know is behind it. The passive-aggression. It’s been denied. I’ve been told she hasn’t done anything with the intention of causing me pain. She’s just trying to be herself. I know that isn’t true. But the person who said it can go on believing what they wish. It doesn’t change the truth. There’s no other good reason for doing these things. Had she had any intention of resolving things with me, she would never have added that former friend again…. not after knowing what it did last time. I feel sad that instead of putting energy into making things right with me, she was doing everything wrong she could possibly think of – and I even gave her further ideas to hurt me, which she did too. I feel sick and sad that she’s not the person I thought I knew all those years.

 

It’s making me question reality. If this is who she truly was all that time, then the last thirteen years of my life were fake…. they were based on a lie. I’m finding that hard to cope with. I can’t trust anything or anyone now. I’ll never be close to anyone again. And I’ll never believe anyone who says they’re my friend and they’re not going to leave me. Because she did.

 

Did she even understand that adding that friend in 2016 actually HURT me? That it caused me anxiety, depression, made me cry every day and feel suicidal? That I felt BETRAYED?! Or did she just know that it ’caused us not to talk for a long time’. Did she not understand the emotions? Is that why she accused me of giving her an ultimatum and telling her what to do? Because she sees things as cold, black and white facts….?

 

I have – I’ve tried ‘diagnosing’ her, simply so I can understand why the hell she’s treated me how she has…. I’ve felt so lost and confused. I’m still confused. And frustrated that I could never get her to understand….. but now I’m thinking is that even my fault or my problem? If she can’t comprehend what I’ve said to her, then the fault doesn’t lie with me…. at least I tried to explain things to her…. I tried to tell her the emotional consequences of things like that. If she was unable to take that onboard and understand me as a result, that’s not my fault. It’s hers. Sorry, I’m having to try and be my own friend here and stick up for myself, because I’ve been made to feel it’s all my fault for months now, and I’m just realising now that it wasn’t…. and the situation was hopeless. I did the best I could. You can only explain your illness and your emotions to the same person so many times, before you have to give up and realise they’ll never get it. They don’t want to get it. And until they get it, you will always get the blame. I’m not taking the blame.

 

It absolutely sucks what has happened. I HATE that she became this different person and left me, at the worst point in my life… I HATE that this happened. I wish it hadn’t. But I am understanding the quote that says you don’t lose friends, you just learn who the real ones are. I may not have many real friends as such now, but it’s better to be alone than to be with people who are not really your friend…. who could at any moment just turn their back on you and walk away. If she had really been my friend she would’ve done anything to not lose me. She wouldn’t have given up on me.

 

Knowing this though doesn’t help with the pain I feel right now. I’m desperately upset about it. I feel so alone.

 

The one person I had whilst being neglected by everyone else, was a friend I knew for about the same amount of time – thirteen years….. mainly online. But she was a wonderful person and the only stable person in my life besides my family. She never hurt me, judged me or let me down. She encouraged me. She cared about me and believed in me. She praised me. She was everything my best friend wasn’t.

 

Two months ago she ended her own life… five weeks before I was meant to finally see her again. Grief associated with suicide is different and complex. You go from sadness, to anger, to guilt and all around again. I still remember finding out…. I went into shock. I couldn’t eat or drink, or stop crying. I hadn’t seen it coming. I should have. I didn’t know things were quite that bad for her. She was happier than I’d seen her in ages. We were looking forward to seeing each other again and seeing our favourite band reunited again. We never got to do that. I had to go without her. Thankfully I had a good friend come with me, to help me enjoy it. Now that’s over though, the thoughts are creeping back in…. the ‘Why…?’… and also anger that she didn’t say goodbye. She didn’t say sorry for leaving me…. she didn’t give me the opportunity to help her. She just went. And by leaving she left me with nobody and nothing.

 

Now I have nobody to confide in or ask advice from. I have people I can chat to, but they’re all more recent friends / acquaintances.

 

I’ve lost the two longest friendships I’ve ever had, and both happened in the space of two months…. one due to suicide, the other because they simply gave up on me. This is unbearable to live with. I have nothing left. My life was looking bleak already, and then the one friend I had left decided life was bleak for her too, and ended it. Now I’m often left thinking why should I have to keep living and suffering? Why can’t I just join her?  Nobody would miss me. Not like she is missed. I have nothing left now. I’ve done nothing great with my life. I’ve made no impact at all. All it seems I’ve done is burden everyone and been used and discarded by them all. Everyone abandons me. Even my friend abandoned me by taking her own life. She left me on my own.

 

I have nobody to cheer me on…. to make me feel I matter or that I’m even visible….. I have nobody saying they love my photos from the concert I had to go to without her. I have nobody showing any interest in my existence now. I can reach out online and be honest about how I’m feeling and be met with silence. It makes me feel nobody cares and I might as well end it. They wouldn’t notice. I feel so invisible. It was an increasing problem in the last year or two…… my deceased friend was the only one who really made me feel I was real and had any value. Now she’s gone.

 

When it happened I reached out to my former best friend, as I was desperately in pain, and wanted to not have that loss on top of the grief. I regretted it the next day, as I realised it was opening myself up to more potential pain at her hands. I was still upset and angry about her adding the other person. I’d actually only written a letter to her that day, which I was intending to send before moving on with my life… and then I found out and that got shelved. So it was confusing. I didn’t want her to think I’d just be okay about it. So thought it best not to get involved. She had unblocked me to try and get a message to me, which never came. When I showed doubt she instantly blocked me on both accounts again… showing not only was she immature, reactive and passive-aggressive, but that she had no compassion in her heart whatsoever…. to block me at a time like that, when I had just found out my only friend had killed herself. It was the exact pain I had decided I needed to avoid at a time like that. It’s the very reason I had second thoughts about reconnecting.

 

We eventually spoke through a couple of texts, but that didn’t come to anything. She asked if there was anything she could do, and my thought was ‘No, not really….. not given the distance between us now…. I mean, you’re not exactly going to offer to meet me for a coffee are you?!’…. it felt empty… hollow…. pointless. For a while it felt better to not feel at war with her. But a couple of weeks with no follow-up texts to check if I was okay, I realised that really was it. She didn’t unblock me. She’s still friends with that other girl…. she’s moving on with her life, whilst she’s left mine in absolute tatters.

 

That’s what annoys me most…. she doesn’t even realise the mess she’s left me in. What she has done to me. She said she didn’t blame herself for how our friendship went. She should have. I had a mental illness that I was fighting really hard, with no support. I was grieving, alone. I made effort for her when she misunderstood and hurt me. She snubbed me. She did a series of things to hurt me this year… even blocking me while I was still in shock at losing my friend.

 

No matter how she may feel in her life, she has other friends. She has a family. I’ve lost my Godchildren. I’ve lost my best friend. I’ve lost my only other friend to suicide. I don’t understand any of it. I don’t even want to exist anymore. I don’t know why she gave up on me. It was either because of my grief, my illness or the symptoms of my illness which offended her, and made her see a side to me she can’t forgive as me being ill. Or she just got bored of me and used it as an excuse to ditch me, and chose to blame me so she didn’t look bad. It has to be one of those – it can’t be that she thinks I’m better off without HER. She’s done everything possible to punish me. That says she hates me and blames me. This is no longer paranoia, it is a fact. If she didn’t blame me then she would’ve communicated that to me. Her behaviour has communicated it so much clearer than her words ever could. She meant me harm and doesn’t want to know me anymore. I just wish I understood why she was so intent on ‘punishing’ me. I’ll never forgive her for all these things she did to me, at a time I was just grieving and seriously mentally unwell. And in the lead-up to the worst and most traumatic experience I’ve ever had…. the suicide. Now I’m left on my own, with nobody to help me through it. Nobody to live for. No hope. No light. No point. She did all this to me.

 

If I die, then it’s her fault. She left me. I would never have got as low as I did if she had shown me her friendship early on. And then attacking me for being ill and reaching out the only way I knew how at that point…. hurting me so badly…. ignoring me at Christmas…. blocking me….. stabbing me in the heart as revenge for some perceived crime….. I even thought naïvely that she might step up after hearing about my friend’s death. I was wrong. That’s how I know she 100% doesn’t and likely never DID care about me.

 

It all hurts too much at the moment. All the loss. I feel paralysed by it. I don’t want to participate in life now. There is no life. Not my life anyway. Others have their lives. I’m back in that invisibubble of gloom, murkiness and despair. I watch…. detached from reality…. praying to not wake up one day….. I don’t feel any good feelings right now. All I feel is a rage, a despair and a desire to piss all over who I used to be, and become a bitch…. I don’t accept this reality. I want a different one. I don’t want to be me anymore. I want to be someone who tells people to go fuck themselves. I want to tell my friend what a bitch she was. I want to not give a shit about the kids anymore. I want to be as vindictive as others have been to me. I want to dish out a bit of karma myself. I want to have a breakdown, cause a scene and genuinely not give a shit about it. I want to not care about ending my own life. I want to not have feelings. I want to not miss people or care about them. I want to feel no remorse like others seem capable of doing towards me. I want revenge. I want to hurt other people (emotionally, not physically).

 

But at the same time there’s that fucking annoying part of me called my fucking conscience, going ‘Excuse me, sorry to trouble you, but that’s not who you are…. you need to keep the spirit of those you’ve lost alive, and be the best you that you can be…. live for them and not let these experiences harden you…’ – that conscience is an irritating little bastard. It’s the only thing that keeps me normal and ‘me’. It drives me insane at the same time as I’m in constant conflict with myself, and can never find peace. But it keeps me in line with my morals. I just wish I could turn that off and dish out a little of what the world has dealt me. It’s not fair that so much has happened and so many people have hurt me, and none of them give a shit or face any consequences for it. They’re all happily getting on with their lives while I face the life sentence because of my fucking mental illness, and my inability to just ‘let things go’. I fucking hate it. They’ve all messed me up and made me unable to live life. My former best friend is the worst of them all. I hope one day she’ll realise she fucked up and feel bad about it. It’ll be too late by then, I’ll either be dead or I’ll have moved on to better things. What’s happened isn’t fair. It isn’t right. And I have to pick up the pieces alone, and tell myself I didn’t deserve it. I have to tell myself I’m not an awful person, I just have an illness she didn’t and never will understand….. that’s not my fault. I have to tell myself that, because the one person who could’ve told me that, took her own life.

 

This is the state of my life now. Going in circles about how fucked up everything is. And how one traumatic loss impacted another and another…. No medication, no therapy, no amount of happiness with other people right now can fix what’s happened. Nothing can take away the seriously fucked up things that have happened in the last year. Nothing. I have to live with the scars of that for the rest of my life… however long that turns out to be. I feel crippled by the trauma of it all. And nobody can help me with that. The mental health team won’t see me until I’ve started at the bottom. They’ll never diagnose me, even if it was something to do with trauma, and would help me understand and get the right help, they won’t diagnose me. So I have to battle on, with nobody understanding why I just can’t live life anymore. I have to stay alive so it doesn’t upset my family. That is the only fucking reason I’m not dead right now. Do you know how fucking wrong it is that life has fucked me up that much that the only reason I don’t kill myself is to not hurt my family…. that that is the only reason to live….!? And it’s no life at all. All those fucking bastards who hurt me in the past and this year have seen to that! They carry on with the lives they have, leaving me stuck in hell because of them, not wanting to live but having to because of my fucking conscience! I hate everyone. I hate my former friend. I don’t wish her well. She didn’t give a shit what happened to me when she discarded me like I was nothing to her….. so why the fuck should I care what happens to her from now on?? Sorry, I’m really upset.

 

I hate living. I hate feeling. I want to take a pill that makes me forget everything that’s come before. I want a clean slate. I want to want to live. because right now I don’t want to. It feels so surreal what’s happened – like a nightmare. How can this be real? I don’t want this life…. or rather what’s left of it. I wish I could sleep forever. It’s the only time I don’t feel the pain of living. I’m just not sure someone like me is meant to live in a world like this. If I am then I have zero clue how…

 

 

 

Bad Night.

Really not okay tonight. Feel too hurt to put into words. Hope I’ll be able to do so in the coming days. Having this illness sucks. Having people who were supposed to be friends, abusing your vulnerability and doing everything they can to hurt you, sucks even more. Don’t know how to feel, what to say or what to do. How to cope. Really haven’t tonight. Have to take a pill and hope I’ll fall asleep eventually. It’s almost 3am. Mind is in chaos. I’ve had enough of feeling and living at this point. I’ll reassess in the morning.

When All Is Said & Done…

When All Is Said & Done...

*Personal post, but the message behind it will be used in an upcoming post about those of us with a mental illness & the expectations we should have of our friends, and that they should have of us*

Dear ______ ,

 

Okay, I’ve reflected some more and I’ve read back the blog I removed. I understand entirely how it would’ve come across to you. I understand and accept it hurt you. It’s not ideal how I communicated my distress. Although I removed it and apologised, I cannot take it back. I appreciate that. And I guess I can see why you blame me and can’t let go of it. I would find that hard too. I spent a lot of yesterday mentally beating myself up… thinking I deserved to be abandoned by you. Thinking it was all my fault. Thinking what a terrible person I am. I know how awful it was to post my feelings ‘publicly’ like that, and I regret it.

 

That being said, I have to draw a line at that and say I’m not taking all the blame here. Whilst what I did upset you, it was as a result of things you had done that upset me… we had problems long before that. I’m not saying you deserved it. What I’m saying is that I was not of sound mind…I was isolated… having a breakdown, was suicidal almost every day. I felt neglected, rejected and a burden to you, because of the way you spoke to me and weren’t talking to me. I had paranoia, which you didn’t understand and took personally. I felt you started doing something more once you knew it hurt me. I was calling out for friendship and support, and received none. I thought you didn’t care if I lived or died. And having rejected me and having made me feel like a burden, you were then sitting back and waiting for me to get in touch with you again – that was never going to happen… it was impossible for me to do that. The ball was in your court. I needed you to make the effort. But you never would have. Had I not blogged, you would never have spoken to me again. I couldn’t speak to you. So while it was not ideal that I blogged about it, I honestly didn’t know what else to do at that point. I did what I thought was best. Even if looking back I can see it wasn’t best, in that moment it was the only thing I could think to do, to break the deadlock and try to maintain our friendship.

 

I know that backfired, but I didn’t think it would in that moment. I did it with the best intentions in the world. I did it because I didn’t want to lose you  (fear of abandonment with BPD makes you do desperate things to avoid being abandoned… some that don’t make sense), but I needed you to understand that I couldn’t get in touch with you. I admit that my words didn’t come out in the best way. And for that I am sorry. But what I need you to understand is that I was in a very desperate, dark, lonely and painful place – I was being abandoned by my one last friend… I felt I was losing everything … after all my grief and mental illness over the previous year, I was now losing my best friend. It was gut-wrenching. I was hurt. I was scared. I was paranoid and splitting – I know you don’t understand how that feels or what it means.

 

I wish you could have read that blog and rather than seeing it as an attack on you, I wish you could’ve seen the pain in my words… the loneliness and desperation. That is all I’ve ever wanted from you… for you to put yourself in my shoes and understand why I feel how I do and why I do the things I do… to know there’s no malice there whatsoever. That I’m reaching out in that way because I care, because I love you and I’m scared of losing you. But you don’t see things in that way. You don’t appreciate my emotions. You choose to see the worst in me. That’s how it feels.

 

I’ve said before, my mental illness is not an excuse …  if I hurt someone then I have to be accountable for it… and I am … I do feel remorse and I do apologise. I know that my intentions were not cruel in the slightest. I know the purpose of what I wrote. And I do know that a lot of what I said was twisted by you too. But all that being said, I accept I caused you pain and I never meant for that to happen. I’m sorry. While my mental illness is not an excuse, I hope it is an explanation. That’s all I want – I don’t want to escape responsibility when I do something wrong… but I want you to understand why I do the things I do…. I need you to know that I’m likely to make mistakes when I’m in a high state of despair and desperation. And I need you to not abandon me because of it. I need you to cut me some slack when I mess up. I need your forgiveness.

 

My paranoia had me thinking that you meant me harm. That you were trying to hurt me. That you hated me. That you were playing mind-games with me… like others have in the past. Whilst it’s not your fault that I had paranoia, you were capable of helping to ease it, by reassuring me and calming my fears. But you didn’t do this. You took offence at everything and got funny with me…. this made my paranoia worse. You did feed my paranoid thoughts. I’m not blaming you. But equally I don’t want you blaming me for having paranoia… I didn’t choose it. It’s hell to go through. My paranoia played a big part in what I blogged. I can see it in the words I chose…. that I honestly thought you were a threat to me. If you cannot understand paranoia then you will never be forgiving of what I wrote. You’ll never appreciate that what I was experiencing was not reality… but that I DIDN’T KNOW THAT. I needed you to be forgiving and understanding. And while you may not have wanted me to do it again, you needed to work with me on how we could avoid the same situation arising in the first place… I needed you to understand the part you yourself played, and to learn how to help me earlier… how to communicate better and be pro-active.

 

I needed you to learn about my illness… to show an interest in finding out how best to protect our friendship. To not blame me for being mentally ill. I was experiencing new and terrifying aspects of my illness last year… I also needed stability, consistency, and certainty, and you weren’t offering me any of those. I felt out of control, and completely alone.

 

no act (1)

 

 

While what I wrote was something I wish I hadn’t, please try and understand that it came from a place the furthest from nasty. It was a moment of desperation, using the only skills I had available to me in that moment to deal with overwhelming pain and fear. I’m not making excuses. I’m not making things up to escape accountability. I’m just saying this was my reality. I do regret it, but I didn’t feel in control of it at the time… it was not done with any true ill-feeling to you. It was done with hurt in my heart at what my sick, paranoid mind was telling me about you. It was done to try and rescue our friendship from eternal silence. I wish I’d left it there now, as the hell it unleashed has done more damage to my life than anything else I’ve ever experienced. But please try and see it from the perspective of someone afraid to lose you, and who thought we would never speak again, and realise that I would’ve been right. You were waiting for me to speak to you. You have to accept that was never going to happen. And you need to accept that’s because of the things you said to me in the previous message. You had made it so I could not approach you again, and then you were sitting back, expecting me to do just that. It was an impossible situation, and I was trying to rectify it. It just went horrifically wrong. Please have some sympathy for that, if nothing else.

 

I tried to make it up to you afterwards. I admit, I didn’t feel it was my fault. The message I got in response to my blog was hurtful, because I knew what my intentions had been, even if they didn’t shine through in my words. I’d wanted to open the lines of communication, but I had no idea they would open so harshly. I felt attacked and misunderstood. I never wanted to talk to you again. But I took time to consider things from your perspective. I understood that your words came from a place of pain, and whatever you had going on in your own life at that time…. this was all I wanted from YOU. For you to understand where my words came from. I wrote to you, to explain, to apologise, to fight for our friendship. I extended the olive branch at Christmas. I sent cards and presents, knowing full-well you probably wouldn’t do the same for me, if you believed such awful things about me. But I still made the effort (which was the level of effort I had needed from you all year but didn’t get…). The whole point was nobody would make any effort for me. All my life I’ve been the one making the effort, chasing after people, begging for care, love and friendship. You don’t know what that’s like. I needed people, particularly my friends, to give it freely… especially at a time when I needed them, like I did last year.

 

So I sent to you… and all over Christmas I was met with silence. Not a card. Not a text. Nothing. It was only a month later when I chased you up yet again, that I learnt you had not opened the presents. You hadn’t given the kids their presents. This deeply upset me. I hadn’t held our disagreement against the kids, but it seemed like you had… I’d gone to a lot of effort choosing things, making things – I don’t know if you’ve opened them now and can see that, or if you’ve done what it feels like you did anyway, and smashed the lot and burnt it… that’s what I’d do if you sent it back to me. It feels like you’ve already done that by rejecting it anyway.

 

I had tried to resolve things. I’d fought for you where you wouldn’t fight for me. I had understood the pain in your words where you refused to do that for me. I had explained my mental illness and yet you still seemed to be holding it against me.

 

10 Adoption Party Ideas

 

 

When it came to it you couldn’t decide what was best. You had said to me in your message that ‘nothing will ever be the same now’. You had talked to _____ about that and said you weren’t sure if things could ever be the same between us now…. you weren’t sure what you wanted. I accept that things wouldn’t have been the same… ever since you said they wouldn’t be, you made sure they never would be. But just because it wouldn’t be the same, it doesn’t mean a friendship couldn’t exist. You don’t just give up at the first hurdle. Look at your relationship – did you give up on it at the first argument? No. You fought for it…. because it mattered to you…. he mattered to you. Every relationship – romantic or platonic, has bumps and arguments…. you use them to make you stronger. You don’t just give up on the person. If YOU do, then it really is best you’re not in my life. I need to know people aren’t going to just up and leave when things get tough. I need that stability in my life, that I know people won’t leave me if we have a disagreement. I aired my feelings to Hannah about how something she did hurt me…. she handled it so poorly that I became afraid to address issues with friends again, in case they left me. And you’ve done just the same.

 

Do you honestly think that if I make one mistake that’s the end of the friendship? Do you know how that makes me feel? It makes me feel I don’t deserve friends. Please look at how you treated me last year, and this year actually – and realise that I still wouldn’t have given up on you. I was still there fighting for our friendship, knowing it wouldn’t be the same as before, but that you don’t just give up on someone. I may be the ‘mentally ill’ one, but I think my values are sound, and I understand the concept of ‘friendship’ better than many who don’t even have a mental illness!

 

Yes at this moment I feel far too hurt and angry with you, and in a sense I have given up on you. You have no idea what it took to get to this point though. I never gave up on you… until you blocked me. Twice. And then you removed yourself from my poetry group, just after finding out that it would hurt me if you did. I see that as malicious. There’s no good explanation for that. That was the final nail in the coffin. That’s when I feel I saw your true colours. And it was very upsetting to realise them. You probably thought I wouldn’t notice…. or maybe you hoped I would …

 

Even when I said I was taking a step back, and unfriending you, I didn’t give up on you or our friendship – I stated that. I said I was doing it for my mental health and a future friendship… I said when you were ready you could get in touch and we’d go for a coffee. But you cut off that option by blocking me. And then you claimed to have done it so I couldn’t see anything that would make me angry at you or resentful. That isn’t the truth is it? Because me unfriending you would’ve done just that. That was the point. You have a private account, as I do. There was no need to block me. The real reason you did it was to get back at me… to feel like you were the one in control. To have the power. You did it to punish me, and so that I couldn’t talk to you again. It was unnecessary, as I wasn’t going to talk to you again. I had put the ball firmly in your court for that. It was your move. You made the wrong one in blocking me. Then you doubled down on it, doing it on the old account, and removing yourself from my group. That felt spiteful. That felt like you had removed yourself from my group to get back at me for talking to _____ … like it was your only way to lash out at me.

 

At this point I don’t want you as a friend – not the way you’ve been behaving. As much as I miss our friendship, I now don’t know who you are because of what you’ve done this year. That being said, if you were to get in touch with me and apologise, and work your arse off to make it up to me for how you’ve behaved, then yes, I would consider our friendship again. I’ve only given up on it now because it seems pretty dead to me, from your behaviour. And because you’ve hurt me so much and seem to have no remorse about it. If that were to change then fine. But I don’t see it happening.

 

I understand you’re holding that blog against me. I can understand why… but at the same time I’m desperately sad that you couldn’t see the emotions and illness in the words I said. That you can’t forgive me and move past it like I tried to do with what you did to me.  You have no idea how many times I’ve had to forgive you for things in the past. I doubt you think you ever did anything wrong towards me. But I’ve always let things go for the sake of our friendship. That’s why it hurts that you gave up on me at what you see as the first hurdle. Because it’s not the first hurdle and I didn’t give up on you.

 

I will always beat myself up for that blog, thinking is that the reason I lost your friendship…. I will always think that’s why you abandoned me. It may be true. But it’s not the real reason I lost your friendship. I lost your friendship because you didn’t have compassion for the state of my mental illness. Because you weren’t there for me. Because you didn’t communicate. Because you gave up when things got hard. Because your heart just wasn’t in it. If you had truly cared about me, then no amount of difficulty would’ve stopped you fighting for us. If you were that heartbroken about losing me then you would’ve accepted my efforts to mend our friendship. You would’ve put in any amount of effort for me. The reason I don’t think you did, is because you blamed me. You were angry with me for the blog so you didn’t want to be the one to make effort for me. You didn’t think I deserved it after what I did. You thought I was nasty and intentionally hurt you. You thought I was the one who owed apologies and effort. And like a chump I did that for you, and it was all rejected. When the whole problem in the first place was your lack of effort for me. That was all I needed from you… effort. And I ended up being the one to show it, for you.

 

So I know that our friendship died through lack of effort on your part when I needed it most – when I was newly grieving after my medication wore off, and I was having a breakdown. You know, when someone has a breakdown they don’t always know what they’re doing… they don’t always make the best choices or feel in control of themselves. You need to be more forgiving of people with severe mental illnesses… we’re doing the best we can. And I tried to fix things afterwards. But no more.

 

At one point I said I didn’t blame you, and I didn’t blame myself – I blamed my mental illness. Well now I don’t. I can’t blame my illness – it’s beyond my control. I don’t blame myself. I do wish I hadn’t written that blog, but things were bad before that… so it’s not the cause of the demise of our friendship. That would be you. I was mentally ill. I couldn’t help that. You could’ve helped how you responded to that illness. One day I hope you’ll look back on the things you said and did, and realise that given the state of mind I was in, they were unhelpful and only worsened things in my mind and in our friendship. You’re not ready to see that yet. You said you didn’t blame yourself for where we were…. oh to have a clear conscience. I envy you. You continue to blame me if it makes you feel better. But blaming someone for being mentally ill is about as low as you can go. And that’s what you’re doing by holding this against me. I never took a break from our friendship. Never. I left you in peace because you had too much to think about to deal with me. I will not take on blame for being rejected by you. This was all your fault and your choices. You knew how I felt, and you chose to avoid me. You chose to tell me your priorities. You chose to not talk about things early on. You chose to react to my blog like you did. You chose to snub me at Christmas. You chose to not give the kids their Christmas presents. You chose to give up on me. You chose to block me, twice. You chose to leave my group. Your choices brought about the death of this friendship. Not me. Not my illness. Your choices. That’s why I’m hurt, and that’s why only you could ever revive this friendship, and I deserve no blame for it. I did all I could to make up for the one mistake I made while I was having a breakdown. I pushed myself through paranoia, isolation and splitting to try and sort things out with you. I chased after you on more than one occasion. And this is what you left me with. Silence. Friends don’t do that. You gave up on us. This is all on you.

 

I’m not going to spend the rest of my life blaming myself for losing you. I made a mistake during the depths of my illness. Any good friend would understand my illness and forgive me, knowing it’s not who I am. They’d understand when I push them away I need them to pull me closer… it’s then that I need love the most. Any ‘friend’ who gives up on me because of one mistake made out of desperation, paranoia and despair, a mistake I tried to make up for, was never truly my friend to begin with.

 

I always regret the bad choices I make during my BPD ‘episodes’ and my breakdowns….. self-harming at therapy…. begging and pleading with guys to help me after their behaviour made me feel unsafe…. ruining people’s days because I storm off…. degrading myself so as not to lose people I care about…. there are many things I’ve done that I wish I hadn’t. And they often replay in my head during my worst times… convincing me I don’t deserve to live as I’m that awful and pathetic… but I have to accept they are as a result of my illness. I am in extreme distress when these things happen and I need to learn not to kill myself over them. Everyone makes mistakes. My worst ones happen when I’m at my worst with my mental health. And they almost ALWAYS come from a place of love, fear or rejection. They do not come from a bad place. I know I’m not a bad person. I need friends who know that too, and remind me of the good in me. I’m sorry you weren’t that friend. Just be thankful you will never know the level of distress that drives me to do the things you think are unforgiveable. You’re lucky.

 

10 Adoption Party Ideas (1)

 

 

Now I have to face the consequences on my own. You’ve left me with nothing. It’s going to be hard to believe in myself again… or in friendship. I don’t think I ever want a friend again. I have to try and rebuild my life alone now. With no hope, no trust… nothing.

 

I may have hurt you with my blog…
But nothing hurts more than a friend who can’t see a mistake born of mental illness as just that, and holds your illness against you… using it as justification to abandon you. Nothing. This illness wasn’t my choice. I sometimes feel I’d rather die than live with this. I didn’t choose it. You chose to do the things you did, with the exception of your response to my blog – that I can understand from a place of pain. Everything else was deliberate. Your choice. Your fault. I will not be blamed for this. You destroyed me. You broke me at a time I needed my friends to help mend me. I was already broken… that was the problem… and instead of fixing me you tore me to shreds and scattered me into the wind. I don’t think I’ll ever recover from this. You gave me abandonment when all I needed was love. That’s harder to forgive than any words I could’ve said in a blog. You broke my heart.

 

We will never agree on what happened here, or who was at fault. The only difference I can see is that I was prepared to own up to my mistakes and fight for our friendship, whilst your choice was to blame me and give up.

 

If I’m wrong about you and all of this then I apologise. But I was paranoid. I was splitting. Your actions have only backed up everything I believed. You can’t blame me for my interpretation of events, when you wouldn’t communicate properly with me. If you really didn’t blame me… if you really didn’t want to lose me…. if you cared about me… if you felt guilty about your actions…. if you didn’t hate me… then you should’ve communicated that to me. By not doing so, and by ‘ghosting’ me, you communicated the opposite and affirmed my suspicions about you. I may be ill, but this is a hole you yourself have dug. Only you can get yourself out of it.

 

I will always be sorry for hurting you. That won’t change. But this is about so much more than that. You abandoned me at my lowest point. You killed our friendship. I’m very sad and hurt about that. And whilst I’m sorry for my part, I’m not the one who owes apologies or effort anymore. It’s the very least I deserve from you. I know I will never get it… but until then, you deserve my silence.

 

I wish I had mattered enough to you, to fight for us. Now I have to fight for myself and regain a shred of self-worth. I lost that and so much more when I lost you. Except I didn’t lose you…. you lost me. I hope you realise that in time.

 

 

 

 

Nothing Left.

*Suicidal feelings*

I’m going to be brutally honest… I’m really struggling with who I am right now. I’m hating myself. The urges I’m having….. the thoughts…. and I’m starting to split on everyone again… I’m isolating and paranoid. I’m feeling so hopeless about life. I feel so lost and frustrated and I’m seriously considering doing something ‘stupid’. I’m scared at how quickly things have changed.

 

I feel like my life is over. I’ve lost everything. I feel so powerless. I was awake until 3am, just thinking and trying not to cry. I imagined ending my life. I almost ‘planned’ it. I guess it was more ‘fantasising’ about it…. not in a glorifying way, but rather a means of finding peace. Imagining that if I wanted to I could make this hell stop. That I had that power. That I at least have a choice about something in my life.

 

The urges I’m having are out of character and I’m ashamed that I even have them. But I know it’s part of my illness. It’s not who I am. I would never pursue a married man. I would never try to wreck a marriage. I would never stalk anyone. I would never hurt anyone. I would never share pictures and information about my self-harm. I would never trigger people with the details of how I want to end my life. I would never do any of these things. They’re the thoughts of an ill mind.

 

Having these sorts of urges makes me hate myself so much. I feel like an awful person. I would never do them…. not in a rational state of mind. But the bit that worries me is that there’s that part of me again that just wants to switch off the rational side of me. I want to lose my conscience. I want to not care anymore. I want to be free from my morals. I want to self-destruct, go insane and do as much damage to myself and to those who have hurt me as I can, and then it’ll be easier to end my life.

 

I experienced all this a year ago. Must be something about this time of year. It was scary then… it’s terrifying now. I was doubting my friendships too, but still had a basic hope that I had one friend who was on my side. Now I don’t even have that. She left me. Now I have no anchor. The way things ended with her has really affected me. I’m so angry I want to split the sky apart with my hands and scream into the void. But I’m powerless. There’s nothing I can do to cope with how I feel. It’s just added to the massive pile of trauma. And people would say to just move on and forget it… focus on the future. They have no clue what it’s like to not be able to move on. To not be able to let go or forget. I would give anything to be able to forget and to live a life free of emotional trauma and pain. The fact the memories are stuck to me like superglue is sickening. They’re a part of me – you can’t sever the two of us… they’re in my cells. I can’t cope with this. So much loss. So much hurt and betrayal. So much sadness. So much hate. And nothing I can do about it.

 

I’m scared to ask for help because people will just invalidate me and think it’s easy to fix. It’s not. My life is a mess. I literally cannot trust anything or anyone anymore. I feel sick. I cannot trust men. I cannot trust ‘friends’. I cannot trust mental health services. I cannot trust my own judgment. Look, I thought I knew my friend of 14 years… I didn’t… all this time she was a ticking timebomb, waiting to explode and abandon me. I never knew she was someone who would just give up on me at the first sign of trouble. I didn’t know she was someone who doesn’t stick around to fix things. I had no clue how at risk I was all that time… fearing rejection and abandonment… and she was there hiding how easily she’d do it. I feel sick to think that for all those years I thought I knew her. I didn’t know her at all. She was always a threat to my mental health. She was the opposite of what I need – stability, consistency, certainty. I didn’t see it.

 

Now I don’t know how I’ll ever open up to anyone ever again. I don’t want friends. Because I obviously repel them. There’s obviously something fundamentally wrong with me as a person. I’m obviously that hideous, embarrassing and horrible a person, that everyone leaves me. They all hurt me, ghost me and leave me broken. I’m not fixable this time. And I can’t risk any more hurt, from anyone.

 

I don’t want to live in this world right now. I don’t want to be around people. And I don’t want to not be around people. What’s the point in being here… existing… alone? I’ve always been alone. I’m used to it. But it’s starting to make me question what the point of living is. I’m just living so as not to cause pain and sadness to those I love, by ending my life. That’s the only reason I have now. And I hate having to live, with no reason to other than that. I hate feeling stuck here, just having ‘friends’ endlessly shit on me and abandoning me, making it so much more painful to just hold on.

 

I’m at that point again where I want to not care about the feelings of those I love. I want to be able to end my life. I want to be ‘selfish’. I want to be able to end my pain.

 

I hate my former friend. I hate everyone else who ever contributed to how I feel now… the bullies at school, Hannah, Sam, Gill, Adam, Evan, Joe, Lou. They all messed me up. They have no clue how much. They’ve made me believe I’m worth nothing.

One ghosted me for no good reason at all.
One abandoned me yet strung me along, all the while cheating on me.
One played mind-games with me and used me as an ego stroke.
One attacked me and painted herself as the victim, badmouthing me to others.
One stabbed me in the back in one of the worst ways a friend could. Breaking the girl-code.
One never showed they valued our friendship, and they didn’t fight for me. They let me go thinking they hated me.
One abandoned me at the worst time of my life and blamed it all on me, blocking me & doing things to deliberately cause me pain and punish me.

 

I hate them all. And they’re all fine. They don’t care what they’ve done to me. I don’t matter to them. I never did. I don’t matter to anyone. I’m invisible in this world. I honestly feel if I died tomorrow nobody would notice. That’s how alone I feel. How irrelevant I feel. How worthless I’ve been made to feel.

 

I want someone to swoop in and save me. There’s nobody left. I don’t have a safety net. I don’t have a support network. I don’t have professional help. And yes I want to run to Matt. I want him to hold me and to fix things. And he can’t, if for no other reason than professional rules. He wouldn’t even remember my name anymore. I’m insignificant as usual. I’m nothing. I know it can’t be. I know it’s all in my head. That doesn’t mean it isn’t real to me. And that I don’t feel this way, and that I don’t want him to rescue me. I want to feel safe. And I haven’t felt safe since the end of that course and losing him.

 

There’s constant conflict in my mind. I can’t find peace. I’m sick of the conflict. That’s why I want to just be able to let go and not care about the consequences. I want to completely lose the plot. Trying to hold it together is what’s making life so much harder right now. But I can’t let go. I have to be strong. It’s too much pressure. I don’t know what to do.

 

I have no friends. It’s a fact now. I hate everyone. Everyone hates me. Or more accurately they don’t care about me enough to hate me. I trust nobody, not even myself. I see no point in anything. I can’t escape the past. I’m a failure. I’m basically just waiting to die. I hate myself. I hate my thoughts and my urges. I’m losing myself. And apart from being scared, I don’t really care. Nobody knows how I feel right now. I can’t let them know. They wouldn’t understand.

 

My greatest fears became reality. And now I don’t want reality. I just want off this ride. I want the feelings to stop. For good.

Life Of Loneliness.

*Suicidal feelings discussed*

 

 

I feel gut-wrenchingly alone. I’m caught between just accepting this is my lot in life, and total despair and suicidal feelings as a result.

 

I have had a lonely life. When I was a child I didn’t have friends as such. I had a lot of difficulties with friendships growing up. My friends either left and went to another school or they just didn’t last. I also had an issue that whenever I felt people were getting too close I’d apparently push them away and the friendship would fade away… I say ‘apparently’ because I do not remember my childhood. I remember snapshots – usually the bad things that happened in my life. I remember standing alone at lunchtimes, at the side of the playground, watching everyone else having fun because nobody wanted to be my friend. Nobody wanted me around. I was the good girl who worked hard… I was shy and quiet and didn’t smile very often… so I was ‘different’ to all the other kids. I remember having to practically beg to tag along with people – this was at the age of 10 or 11… no child should have to do that…. no child should feel that isolated and desperate. I was socially excluded by my peers. I feel sickeningly sad about that to this day. I had friends abandon me and replace me – when I was about 8 or 9 this happened with my best friend – she replaced me with the girl who bullied me.

 

Throughout the rest of school and college I hardly had any real friends. I talked to people, but I still felt that sense I wasn’t accepted… I still felt nobody wanted to be seen with me. I faced more bullying… at one point it was in front of a whole class, including people I considered ‘friends’ and nobody did anything to stop it…. nobody stood up for me or checked if I was okay.

 

I had one good friend who I would’ve called my ‘best friend’ at secondary school – a Chinese girl who used to do piano duets with me …. that just came to an end when we went our separate ways for college. I do feel sad about that as she was lovely. It didn’t come without its issues though… a girl we shared classes with became very possessive over her, and kept trying to stop her seeing me at lunchtimes and getting her to hang around with her instead, and to sit next to her in classes. From what I understand those two are still friends even to this day.

 

I often spent my lunchtimes at the school library, where I started volunteering as a librarian. It kept me busy and I felt less lonely – less like the loner I was at primary school. Other times I went to the music block rehearsal rooms and just played piano.

 

They were difficult times… feeling unwanted…. feeling ashamed … judged. I doubt there are many people who could understand how that felt… especially not many that went to school with me. They probably never even realised what I went through. People bullied me and picked on me… again because I was quiet and shy… an easy target. I didn’t stand up for myself. They picked on me because of my looks as well. I was a relatively hairy child and had spots… probably all part of my PCOS. Not exactly something I could help having. And believe it or not I was a child, not a woman, so I didn’t need to shave all my hair off to be sexually attractive – I wasn’t a child-slut like other girls in my year must’ve been. I was picked on so much I ended up shaving my arms and I’ve only just in the last six months finally managed to break past the mental barrier, to grow the hair back… so many times the memories of such judgements tempted me to shave it all off again, but I pushed through, and now I accept them… although I have my moments of disgust. Your young years do scar you for a lifetime….

 

They picked on me for not shaving my legs…. but I was an innocent child. I didn’t know little girls were supposed to shave their legs. A boy once jokingly asked if I was a virgin…. I had never heard of the word (this was at primary school mind you), and I thought he meant Virgo, so I said no…… people liked to laugh at my innocence. Just like the time my tutor group tricked me into saying ‘maths-a-pation’ and thought it was hilarious that they’d made me say ‘masturbation’, even though I hadn’t…. I didn’t even know what that word meant at that point. There were some boys who obviously knew my name, but they were in the year above, and they called me Lily Savage (the drag-act), because of my hairiness. The girl who bullied me most of all at secondary school called me ‘spot’, because of my spots. These fucking awful children made me hate myself for the rest of my life, and I really do hate them all for it. Because they’ve carried on with their lives, no problem. They’ve all settled down, got married, had children and have no idea about the impact they had on my whole life.

 

I spent the later part of school and my college years not knowing who I was… I tried so hard to change, to be accepted by others… I tried to be ‘louder’ and more fun. I tried to be who they wanted me to be, because I learnt early on that I would never be accepted how I was.  People used to ask my mum (because she was the librarian at primary school), why I was so quiet.  She used to say it’s who I am, and that it was like asking why they are so noisy. She tried to help me out but kids are evil. If you’re one of the quiet ones you don’t stand a chance.

 

I didn’t have ‘friends’ as such at college. I tended to hang around either with my brother or with a couple of guys – one who I knew from school, but who nobody else liked, so it alienated me from everyone else, and two guys from music. I liked their company. We used to sit under the stairs at lunchtimes. Guys were much easier to hang around with. No bitchiness, less drama. They seemed to accept me. I remember sitting with a group of girls in the corridor once, and after a bit they all just got up and left, without telling me where they were going. They abandoned me. This has been my life.

 

And then I left college. By that time my mental health was awful. I had started self-harming whilst at college and told my family towards the end of it. From then on it was taking a break from the stress of college, and working on getting well – seeing doctors, going on medication, therapy etc., voluntary work… I didn’t have friends then. It was difficult. But in a way, looking back it was probably actually an easier time.

 

Then I met someone through volunteering who happened to like the same band as me. We bonded over that, went to see them together, and a friendship was born… the best and longest friendship I ever had – 14 years. The first real friend I had.

 

I heard from someone I knew at school, we met up, became friends… sometimes all three of us would meet up – I introduced them to each other… big mistake. Through all the friendship dramas I’ve endured in the last few years I have realised never to introduce friends to other friends. You should always keep your friends for yourself.

 

I then did my therapy course of DBT – over ten year ago now…. towards the end I became friends with a woman on the course, and she became a good friend, who also understood my illness, because she had it too. In fact she was the one who drew my attention to the term Borderline Personality Disorder, and that that’s what I was being treated for. I hadn’t been told that.

 

I suddenly had three friends! After all my years of loneliness I had three people in my life I counted as good friends. We all met as a group sometimes too. And other people sometimes joined, who knew the others. But mainly it was us four girls. Then my best friend introduced a guy friend of hers into the group, and also her boyfriend at the time joined in too. I’ll be honest, it changed the dynamics of the group having guys there too.

 

The guy wanted to date my best friend – she wasn’t interested…. I secretly liked the guy…. the school friend always seemed flirty with him, and the therapy friend kept it well hidden that she liked him too, so one day when I was out of the country for my brother’s wedding, she broke up with her fiancé, moved back home and got together with him instead. She knew I liked him, as I confided in her. It broke my heart and she broke my trust. I couldn’t be in their circle anymore, so I lost my group of friends. I had already lost the girl from school because she started playing mind games with me and bitched about me to the group. She was a narcissist. So I felt excluded from the group anyway, plus just like at school nobody defended me against her backstabbing and treatment of me. At the same time there was another guy I was interested in, in a different way, who I had found out was using me and playing games with me… only finding this out just before I left the country…. so it really all happened within the space of a month.

 

My whole world fell apart. I lost the friend from school, the one from therapy (which made me resent therapy and recovery too), the guy I liked who played games, the guy I had become friends with and wanted to settle down with… it all happened at once. From having no friends and feeling excluded all my life, and then I had a group of friends. I remember eight years ago now, sitting in the local pub at a table, with all of them around me, and I never felt happier to be surrounded by friends. And then suddenly in 2012, less than a year later, it all came crashing down at once. Excuse me if that year completely fucked me up and traumatised the hell out of me. I hate the lot of them for what they did to me.

 

Out of it all I managed to keep one friendship at least – my best friend… the original one. She never gave up on me. She had a baby the next year, and that saved me from destruction. I loved that little girl so much. She gave me a purpose. She gave my life a new meaning and taught me a lot about myself. I became a different person – a person I liked. A couple of years later, another little baby joined the party. I loved him just as much. Those two kids became my Godchildren and I will always love them. Nothing can change that.

 

I may have lost most of my ‘friends’, but with my Godchildren I never felt lonely. They looked forward to seeing me. I felt wanted. I felt appreciated. I felt proud of them and proud of who I was becoming. There were times, quite often, when I felt I didn’t deserve them. I sometimes voiced this to my friend. I didn’t feel good enough. I felt I was letting them down, particularly when I was going through hard times mentally. Sometimes I wouldn’t be up to seeing them… I knew I couldn’t put on an act. And I didn’t want to make them feel rejected or like a nuisance, and I didn’t want them to be worried or upset. I babysat them in February last year. I found it overwhelming. I was seriously unwell mentally at the time. I don’t think my friend even knows how much I struggled that day. I was good at hiding how I felt. I didn’t want her to feel like she’d imposed by asking me to watch the kids. I wanted to help. I wanted to feel helpful. But it was difficult with two of them at that time. That was the last time I saw them….

 

Soon after that was the first anniversary of my first loss, and when nobody was there for me, including my best friend, I isolated myself because I was splitting on everyone. I thought nobody cared. I thought they all hated me. I thought they all wanted me dead. I withdrew from everyone. I felt so detached from reality… so paranoid… and disconnected from life and other people. I would turn up to work and smile and nod, but feel emotionally dead inside, and like I wasn’t really there. I’d sit on the bus, looking out the window at people walking around, and I’d feel like it was the last time I’d see the world. I was that suicidal that it felt certain to happen, and soon.

 

Being isolated is hard…. once you get into that rut it is very difficult to get out of it. You need people to make the effort for you. I often wrote about that, or made videos as my way of communicating from the prison inside myself. I talked about ‘the hijacker’… that I didn’t feel in control anymore… that I was being led away from my friends, and I needed them to rescue me. They didn’t. They let ‘him’ drive away with me and then blamed me for not sticking around. I needed them to put in the effort for me, where I couldn’t. I was calling out for help and nobody answered.

 

I didn’t see my best friend. I saw her in March once, and then after a couple of months of not talking, we met for a coffee in June and saw a film a day or two later, and that was it. I’ve not seen her for 10 months. I’ve not seen ANYONE socially for 10 months. I’m afraid to now. As I didn’t see my friend, I couldn’t see her children. I was losing that part of my identity. As such, I didn’t know how to be ‘fun Lily’ for the kids anymore, and I was worried I wasn’t good enough to be around them. My self-esteem was low. That was the problem. But my friend didn’t understand it that way. She thought I didn’t want to see the kids. I NEEDED to see the kids. And I couldn’t do that without seeing her. But she’d go weeks without even talking to me.

 

I understand communication works two ways. And she had got it into her head that I didn’t want her friendship anymore. But that’s not the case at all. And if she had read my blogs or listened to my videos, or read my statuses then she’d know that. I was unable to reach out to people, and I made that clear in blogs. I needed her to reach out to me. She knew that. If she felt the same then fine, but I didn’t know that. She never communicated anything like it. As far as I could see she was simply ignoring my cries for help. I was calling out and begging for people to show me friendship. I may have said I felt like I didn’t have any friends, but that was because people were not treating me like I was their friend. I felt lonely and neglected. It didn’t mean I didn’t WANT them as friends, it meant I NEEDED them as friends but they were failing to be friends. She seemed to misinterpret so much that I said last year, and the damage that did is now not fixable, because I don’t think she understands that it’s her misunderstandings of me and of what happened, that have driven us to this point and broken our friendship.

 

Our friendship died last year. My last friendship… gone. The moment it died was when she reacted to a blog of mine… one that was trying to break the deadlock and save a friendship – we would never have spoken again otherwise… most of what she said did damage to our relationship, but the killing line was ‘I did miss you. Do miss you. But nothing will ever be the same now’. She had just villainised me for trying to rescue our friendship. I may not have gone about it the best way. I was in a painfully desperate state… a lot of the trauma of 2012 was going through my head at the same time. All the loss, the mistreatment…. I did what I thought was best at the time. And she had concluded that we would never be the same from that moment on. The actual PROBLEM last year was her neglecting me when I needed a friend… it was her seeming to replace me, and pretending I didn’t exist, yet somehow I ended up with the blame. And I don’t think she’s let go of that one incident ever since. That’s why we’re not friends now.

 

She blames the demise of our friendship on me. On what I did – blogging…. forgetting the fact that I had nobody else there for me. I was having a breakdown. I was trapped within my own mind. I was suicidal and self-harming most days. What did she expect me to do? Did she want us to never speak again? Perhaps. And maybe it would’ve been better. What’s happened since has destroyed me. I’ve faced so much more rejection from trying to save the friendship. It’s heartbreaking.

 

I removed the blog. I apologised. I extended the olive branch at Christmas. It was snubbed. I was snubbed. The kids weren’t even given their presents for Christmas. I didn’t get a thank you, a card, a text, or any acknowledgement. I had to chase my friend up at the beginning of this year, to ask her if she even wanted to sort things out. This made me feel how I felt back at school, begging people to tolerate me at lunchtime. I’ve always had to chase attention, affection, love and care. I’m rarely shown it willingly and freely. This is sickening. It makes me feel worthless and pathetic. This will never change until people start to be consistent in their friendship and are emotionally available.

 

My friend couldn’t decide whether I was worth fighting for. She needed more time. In the meantime I was expected to sit with my insecurities and paranoia about being replaced by her other friends, who she often wrote about having a great time with them. I felt rejected and forgotten.

 

So I had to do what was right for my mental health. I had to step back. I had to unfriend her until she was ready to sort things out with me. I had to allow myself to get well. Her husband seemed to understand this and said it was important to look after myself. I don’t feel she was as reasonable. Her behaviour definitely didn’t communicate it anyway. Having said I felt upset about the Christmas presents, saying that I felt continuously rejected by her, and saying I needed to look after my mental health by removing her, she said nothing to me… she just blocked me.

 

Not exactly the actions of a friend. I know I was going to remove her, but I explained the reason why – I respected her enough to not just ditch her like others had ditched me throughout my life. In all these years I’ve just wanted someone to respect and care about me enough to allow me some closure… to finish on a decent note. The pattern is that they just get tired of me or hurt me, before ghosting me. It’s hurtful for anyone, but damaging for someone with BPD. By saying absolutely nothing to me and just blocking me it communicated that she didn’t accept my decision, and therefore didn’t care about my mental health. It was passive-aggressive. All it did was make it so I couldn’t get in touch with her. It stated that she doesn’t want to hear from me again. It was a punishment with the intention to gain power and control of the situation. It was unnecessary.

 

My last memories of my oldest and best friend, are her blocking me (on two accounts), and removing herself from my Facebook group, after hearing from her husband that I was paranoid she’d done that to hurt me, just like others did to punish me when leaving my life. She made conscious choices to do things she knew would hurt me. I’m finding it hard to come to terms with the REALITY that she’s either become this person who wants to hurt me, or she’s always been that person and I never realised. I’m now thinking that my paranoid thoughts were not ‘paranoia’ but rather ‘gut feelings’ based on reality. I don’t know what to believe anymore.

 

What matters is that I am now left friendless. A year ago I felt like I didn’t have any friends… because of the lack of friendship I was shown. This year I actually don’t have any friends. Last year my friend wasn’t there for me on the first anniversary of my loss. This year she wasn’t there because she had blocked me. I thought things couldn’t get worse than last year. Maybe I was wrong.

 

Yes I have people I occasionally talk to. Acquaintances. Or even ‘friends’ in the looser sense of the term. I mean no offence to these people – but I think they’d agree I’m not one of their closer friends. There’s nothing wrong with that. I can still care about people and like them without us being close friends. It’s just the reality of things. We’re not that close, and probably never will be. So I feel justified in saying I have no friends. She was the last one. My one and only friendship left after muddying the waters by bringing all my former friends together…. how different life might be now had I kept them all separate. It sickens me to think about that…

 

I felt isolated last year. This year I feel lonely….. alone. Being totally honest there are people I’ve prompted several times about meeting up, and nothing has materialised. I know people are busy and forget. I’m guilty of it at times. And I’m sure some people have felt the same way towards me as I do towards others right now… but you just get to a point where you think I’m not going to suggest meeting again…. there’s only so much ‘rejection’ someone with BPD can face. Although it’s not a rejection as such – it’s a loose agreement to meet, so in a way it’s acceptance, it’s like broken promises… it’s a disappointment… it feels like rejection. And I can’t keep putting myself out there and being rejected. It’s dragging my self-worth even further down. So I’m starting to isolate in my mind again.

 

I feel so painfully lonely. I have nobody close to me anymore. Nobody to confide in. Nobody to share the good or the bad with. I feel nobody cares about me. I feel I’m nothing to everyone in my life. This is partly due to my former best friend making me feel I meant nothing to her, but also just the voice of my illness.

 

My illness is bad again at the moment. I’m wanting to do bad things. I want to do something self-destructive. I’ll write about that separately.

 

I just feel so empty, flat and invisible. I always have to ask for people to notice me and care, and it makes me feel worthless and demanding and like an attention-seeker. I can’t keep doing it. Not only do I feel irrelevant to those I know, but I now don’t have a best friend. I live in world where my best friend hurt me and abandoned me so coldly.

 

It’s hard to accept the journey I’ve been on – from a childhood of loneliness and isolation, to a group of friends, to one friend but the Godchildren too, to nobody and nothing…. I’ve gone full-circle. It’s really upsetting.

 

I know I’m not the only person with BPD who feels life is easier not having friends or relationships. Experiences like this make me want to live my life without anyone else…. people just bring complications… especially if those people don’t try to learn about and understand our illness and how to help the relationship flourish. It feels easier somehow to avoid people. You feel that way you won’t get hurt. But at the same time it’s incredibly lonely not having anyone in your life.

 

This is how I feel right now. I feel trapped. I feel either way I end up hurting and wanting to die. Relationship tensions and abandonment hurt me to the point I don’t want to be here anymore. And feeling so alone and invisible makes me think I might as well not be here. I’m feeling suicidal at the moment.  Everything about my life is hurting…. from my childhood, to 2012, to the last couple of years, to the present. I’d say the future, but right now I don’t see one. I hate how people have treated me in the last few years, after the things I went through as a child. It mirrors what I went through. It all hurts so much. And I feel like that little girl, standing by the wall by herself… nobody wanting to play with her… just watching others enjoy their lives whilst questioning her own existence and asking ‘why?’. Life just hurts and I hate everyone who abandoned me, betrayed me and made me feel this worthless. They’ve made me not want to live any longer.

 

 

It’s All Come Back.

*Self-harm / suicide*

 

I need to be honest. I’m not okay at the moment. I’ve been hit by a tsunami of pain and sadness. From the outside you probably wouldn’t tell. I’m a master of disguise. But inside, my heart is sinking…. it feels scarred by so much loss… some more recent than others…. there are a couple of people-shaped holes in it from particular people I lost from my life, and those holes are filled up with sadness and despair. A helplessness. A hopelessness.

 

I imagine harming myself badly. I crave it. But more worrying than this, I have started having my suicidal thoughts again. Some are more active than others. There’s a constant hum of ‘I don’t want to be here anymore’… ‘I can’t do this anymore’…. ‘I want it all to stop’. And then there’s considering ways to do it.

 

I feel world-weary. The concept of time is something I can’t handled. I’m thinking about the fact we’re heading towards summer… once that’s over it’s back to fireworks, Halloween, and then Christmas again…. and another new year…. and it starts all over again… It’s another year where I’m stuck in hell on this planet we call home. Another year without certain people. Another year alone. Another year wanting to die. Another year wasted.

 

I feel like a failure. All the things I haven’t achieved… I feel I never will. And if I can’t then all I am is a burden and a disappointment.

 

Yesterday I came across a note I had written during my suicidal times – I don’t recall when I wrote it or what triggered it, but it was within the last year. It was a ‘suicide note’. I don’t think I was attempting to end my life… I just went through a period of self-harm where I really didn’t care what happened to me. I was in a very dark and desperate place.

 

The things I’m finding most painful right now, other than just having to exist in this world, disconnected from life, feeling alone with no close friendships… are two things – the old ‘transference’ stuff, and losing my best friend.

 

Although it’s been well over a year since I saw the therapist I had feelings for, and I thought I had come to terms with it, I’m finding myself missing him so much right now. I just want to see him and talk to him. I can’t, obviously – but that fills me with despair and powerlessness in itself. I’m wanting to go back to the days of that course. I keep reliving it. Which brings with it all the memories of my breakdown and self-harming there. I also get all the thoughts about never seeing him again and it makes me not want to live this life…. as pathetic as that sounds. It’s like it’s all come back. There was a time I’ll admit that I saw his presence online, and it brought me some weird kind of comfort to know he was alive and well out there…. he stopped doing that a long time ago. So as ridiculous as this sounds, it’s more like a death now than before. I have nothing to grasp onto to comfort me. It’s just emptiness and utter loss.

 

I mean life wasn’t that great before I met him… but it’s been so much worse since I have. I had never felt so suicidal as I did after the course ended and I never saw him again. That lasted all of last year… until the point losing somebody else took over…. now I’m grieving them both. And I don’t want to be. I either want to have them in my life, or to not have a life.

 

I’m sick of emotional pain. I’m sick of feeling trapped. Of not being able to let go. Of feeling so alone.

 

I’ve been having urges recently to do things out of character. I feel ashamed about it. But I have to keep telling myself it’s because I’m ill. It’s part of my illness. I shouldn’t blame myself for it. It’s desperation, sadness, loneliness and feelings that I can’t help having.  And so far I’ve not acted on any of them. That’s the main thing.

 

But I feel so heartbroken, sad and lost. Nothing will fix this. And everyone thinks I’m over it. So nobody knows how I feel. That’s why I’m saying it here. So at least somebody knows the pain I’m in right now.

 

Losing my best friend is another thing that’s hard to cope with at the moment. To begin with I was driven forward by anger, and the fact I had a charity event to take part in, so I was walking every day – I had an aim. I had things to focus on and lift me up. But now that’s all over. I’ve not been too well lately, physically… and I’m feeling sad and upset at being abandoned by her. I’m writing a separate post about that later, I won’t go into all the details here… but I’m feeling the need to fix it. To sort things out, so that I don’t have to feel this way. But I tried that and kept getting hurt more. She very much seems to be a person now who hears what hurts me and does it more. She blocked me twice, and removed herself from my Facebook group, after I’d said to her husband about it. She probably thinks I didn’t notice that. Or more likely she was hoping I would. That’s what I mean, I’m struggling to come to terms with who she has become…. or who she always was, right under my nose. These are not the actions of someone with good intentions, no matter what she may tell her husband, friends and family. I’ve seen more spite from her than anyone else who ever hurt me.

 

I’m struggling to accept reality here. I feel like there’s been an endless string of knocks… loss after loss… first it was my granddad…. then the therapist…. then my best friend and my Godchildren. In life terms I have nothing left to lose. Obviously I have people I can and will lose to death. This terrifies me, especially now I have no support in the form of friendships. But in terms of things in my life, I have nothing left. Which brings on the suicidal thoughts. The only thing I feel I have to live for right now is a concert I’m going to in June. Best seats for my favourite band. Other than that I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here.

 

I feel like without social relationships there is no point to life. But I find them so traumatic. And the reality is I’ll likely never have them again. After the last man destroyed my self-esteem, confidence and belief in men, I no longer want anything to do with them now…. apart from the therapist obviously! And now after my best friend has warped into someone I don’t even know, and has abandoned me, I will never trust anyone again to let them that close to me. I will never want close friends again thanks to her.

 

I feel desperately sad to not have anyone close to me anymore. Sure I have people on Facebook I can talk to. Most don’t live anywhere near me. And let’s face it… we’re not ‘close’ and probably never will be. It takes a long time to grow an old friend. Nothing can compare with the sort of friendship I thought I had with my best friend. I’ll never be able to be that close to someone again, and I’m not able to find a partner either. I just feel so completely alone and lonely. This is how I felt last year. That was the whole problem last year. I isolated myself and nobody noticed. Nobody cared. Not even my best friend. She never DID put in the effort for me. I ended up being the one running after her, being the friend to her that I needed her to be to me. And she never got that I just felt so alone and needed a friend.

 

I’m trying not to cry right now. I feel like screaming. I feel like I’ve been screaming for two years and nobody heard me. Anything I’ve needed from others has been ignored and denied. I’m still so angry about how the therapy was handled. I’m viciously angry about that. I blame them. And now with my friend too… I’m so angry with her. I don’t understand what the hell happened or what the hell I did to deserve it. She’s broken me.  Her husband said that ‘Hopefully one day you can both put this behind you and talk again.’… but how can I put this behind me when I don’t even know what the hell ‘this’ is…?? I do not understand what’s happened and why she’s treated me the way she has. She’s been so passive-aggressive and closed up about it all, and I’ve poured my heart out more than once. I’ve tried being open and making effort to fix it, and she hasn’t met me halfway. She’s avoided resolving things and left me feeling blamed for it all. I don’t know if this was intentional because she does blame me, or if it’s just how her behaviour has come across. But it’s left me confused as to why she gave up on me. She can’t expect us to go our separate ways and then one day it’ll all be forgotten and we can talk as friends again. I don’t work like that. I work on respect and apologies where apologies are due. Not avoiding someone to avoid the blame and responsibility. No. Take responsibility for what you’ve done, own up to hurting me, commit to putting it right and follow through. Nothing less will do. I don’t think it’s asking a lot. It’s common f*cking decency. It’s being a good person. It’s putting your relationship ahead of your own ego.

 

I’ve been crying out for help for two years… I remember a year ago writing a post about this, and the fact I was drowning and everyone was just standing by and watching me go under. Now they’re not even watching. They’re not even noticing. And I’m ashamed to say I’ve reached that point again where I want to make them notice. I want to end up in hospital. I want to show everyone how desperate I feel right now. I want them to hear me. If that means doing something drastic just so they can finally understand how I feel then so be it. Nobody will know how devastating it is to be screaming into a void for two years… to not have your emotional needs met…. to lose everything…. to not have support…. to not have people take you seriously with your mental health. I want to actually rip my own skin apart with my bare hands. That’s how frustrated I feel and how much pain I’m in.

 

This might have come out of nowhere… or it could be I’ve been distracted for the last couple of months. I don’t particularly care either way. Because this is how I feel right now… and it’s such a bleak feeling. People might say that I’ll feel better tomorrow… but they don’t know that. And even if I do, this isn’t going away. This isn’t just feeling a bit down. These are major things I have to come to terms with… losses I don’t want to be reality. Losses that have already happened. I had a lot of losses around 2012, but I had my friend and the Godchildren to help me through it… I hadn’t lost my granddad…  I hadn’t met Matt. Everything’s different now. My emotions are more volatile, I’ve had an actual loss, and now I’ve also lost everything. Part of my identity is gone. More than a part actually…. three parts… who I was before my granddad died… who I was with my best friend… and who I was with the kids. I have nobody to keep me going this time. It’s just me, doing things alone to try and survive. And when my mental health was bad already and I was coming to terms with grief and loss, it’s not fair that I should be forced to face that on my own. It feels unjust. It feels like my life is one big abandonment after another. And I hate my friend for her timing.

 

It just all feels so tragic, because a lot of how I’ve acted in the last year has come from a place of love….. she’ll never know that I was just sad that I couldn’t share in experiences with her, like motherhood…. she’ll never know that I pictured the future, with the kids growing up and me still being there for them…. she’ll never know that I didn’t want to lose her and I was afraid of being replaced….. she’ll never know that I wanted to be able to be there for her and support her, but she rarely opened up to me to let me be the friend I could be. Nobody ever does that… they never let me in…. this means I never get to demonstrate the caring  sides of me, and friendships end up seeming unbalanced, whereby I talk about my problems but they never do. It ends up seeming like I take more than I give, but the reality is nobody allows me the opportunity to give.

 

All I wanted was to feel loved, appreciated and secure in our friendship. I needed to feel safe again, after so much loss. She’ll never know how much it broke my heart that she gave up on me. And she did. No matter what tale she may spin… even if she claims I was the one who took a break from our friendship, like she claimed before, it was she who made that decision. She made the decision by failing to make the decision. That in itself is a decision. If she had known she didn’t want to lose me then she wouldn’t have had to think twice about it. Her doubt gave away her true answer. But I think she just didn’t want to be the one to say it. I think I gave her what she wanted – permission to leave my life. I ultimately was the one to mention a step back. Now she can blame it on me… or at least in her mind her conscience is clear, as she didn’t have to reject me outright. But her flip-flopping and refusal to care about me, brought me to the decision to care about myself. I deserved better. That’s how I felt at the time. Now I’m in a state of questioning what I deserve.

 

I’m feeling really low today. Everything from the last few years is hitting me all at once. And it’s pushing me to a bad place. Matt once said to me about transference and he used the word ‘solace’. That’s what I want right now. I want to run to him. I want him to comfort me. But don’t worry, I know how unbelievably impossible this is. It’s just a dream. And I do dream of him. I just want to feel safe. I don’t feel safe. And just like I wanted to feel safe with my friend, she abandoned me and left me even less safe and secure. There’s no stability to life. And I can’t cope with that. I’m not coping.

 

Everything feels black at the moment, and my mind goes to the images I had to face every day last year. I feel out of control and so upset.

 

I’m sorry I’ve not blogged for a while, and it’s not been useful for a long time. This blog’s become the only thing I can confide in… and my friend destroyed my confidence in writing – I find it hard to finish posts and share them now. I feel it’s wrong of me to do so. But as I’ve been robbed of other options and been abandoned now, I don’t want to let her dictate how I deal with the mess she left me in. It’s hard to fight through that barrier but I have to try and find my voice again, and not be afraid to use it.

 

 

Outburst.

*Self-harm & suicidal thoughts*

 

I feel so ashamed today. I feel broken and done with life. I finally cracked. This had been building for the last few weeks, if not months. I was triggered by someone saying something and the switch was flipped. I had no control anymore. I don’t fully remember everything…. I wish I could forget it all actually. I just remember running out of the room, shutting myself away…. shouting, swearing, roaring the house down, punching something, collapsing on the floor, crying…. I don’t know how I got a grazed knee….. I don’t know how I did so much damage to my hand when I had a bandage on. I don’t remember getting from A to B.

 

I had to pull myself together and apologise to the person who triggered me. They can’t help saying hurtful things – they’re not aware it’s hurtful. It’s a condition. I ruined their day. But there’s been a pressure building on me, for many reasons, some I will write about soon…. but a series of events happened in the immediate lead-up to it, and I exploded.

 

I had to take two diazepam straight afterwards…… and I was shaking and struggling to breathe. I always feel disconnected from reality at the moment, but that was another level … that was out-of-body stuff…. not even like watching myself do these things…. almost not seeing them at all. It was like during that episode I had no eyes, if that makes sense? I could hear… I could feel, more or less…. it was terrifying.

 

I have a very sore hand now, and I felt so awful about what had happened, that I put on a brave face to try and improve the day for others, but I knew as soon as I had the chance I would self-harm to punish myself. I did, and that was a scary experience too. I’ve either done myself damage or very nearly did, as it felt different. It’ll take a long time to recover. But the memory of the emotions and the shame will never leave.

 

I hate being this person. I hate who I am. I hate this illness. I hate all the shit that’s happening to me at the moment. I hate living. I can’t do this much longer. I can’t be around people. I can’t live in this amount of pain. Anyone who can be cut out of my life, who has hurt me, they’re gone now. They have to be, unless they’re trying to make me feel better. I deserve better. I’ll be writing about this. There are enough people who bring me pain, who I cannot cut out of my life. I can’t take any more. If they can go, they will. This is all their fault anyway. I didn’t deserve what they did to me. That’s for another blog.

 

I can’t get over the guilt from today. And I keep reliving it….. even though there are blanks in my memory, I’m replaying all that I remember. It’s been a traumatic day. I keep wanting to cry because I feel like a horrible person. I don’t want this to be my life. I don’t see how I can avoid it though. There is no warning…. it really is the flick of a switch and I’m out of my body, running, shouting, punching. I don’t want people to hate me for it. I’m so scared and paranoid now that people blame me, hate me and judge me because of it. I feel so embarrassed. Ashamed. I just keep wanting to punish myself for it over and over again. I wrote most of this earlier, and now the urges have started again… and the tears… having outbursts like today just make me want to live even less than I already do. I just feel everyone would be so much happier and at peace if I wasn’t here.

 

I’ve been offered a reason to get up tomorrow, to do something…. probably just so I’m not on my own…. I’ll do it, but all I want to do is hide in my bed. I’m in so much pain right now. I just shouldn’t be allowed to talk to anyone. I hate myself so much. And I hate the world too. There are a few nice people in it, who unfortunately don’t live that near to me, most of them. But besides that I just don’t want to be a part of this world anymore. It’s a difficult enough experience for me on my better days…. but I’ve been hurt and abandoned and left to cope on my own, with more pain than anyone could imagine. I’m constantly in a war with my mind… and I’m losing. I want to surrender.

 

I started off as a mess with no friends…. I gained friends – a group of friends….. and then one by one they hurt me or abandoned me…. as I got more ill more of them left, giving me more reason to be ill ….. and then there was me…. back where I was 10 / 15 years ago…. but worse. This is much worse. I have fewer reasons to live now. I am more violent to myself. I’ve been through too much that has broken and traumatised me…. I just want it all to end. I just want something good to happen. I want people to stop hurting me. Please. This isn’t fair. Are you all trying to kill me? If you want me out of your life that much then just keep doing what you’re doing, it won’t be long.

 

So much can change in a year…. the last year has seen me spiral down to the lowest I’ve ever been…… and everyone pretty much sat by and watched it happen. Some even blamed me for it. You can’t forget that sort of pain. I wish I could take a pill to forget everything and everyone who ever hurt me. To start anew … I can’t live this life with this mind and its memories. It’s impossible.

 

All I can hope is that I’ll fall asleep. Sleeping is the only escape I have in this hell others call ‘life’. It’s better than living. I wake up every day to a never-ending and worsening nightmare. I hope one day I don’t wake up.