Breaking Through A Breakdown.

*Self-harm / suicide*

 

Right. I feel about ready to start talking about the last week…. I had a breakdown last Friday. It’s related to things I’ve written about recently. I don’t fancy going back over it all. Let’s just say I gave the Wellbeing Centre something to read, and wasn’t given the opportunity to say necessary things as I did so. I didn’t get to explain that I was not requesting what I had originally asked for from them. Nothing needed saying or doing. Only acknowledgement it had been read if anything. I didn’t get to say I didn’t blame ‘X’ for any of it and I didn’t want him to blame himself. I didn’t get to say I had blocked emails from ‘Z’ because I was so triggered by her response. I didn’t get to say the most important bit … that I needed to feel I was in control of what happened next. I needed to be the one to decide if I continued at the group and the Centre. If that choice was taken from me and made for me, it would render me powerless. And powerlessness, alongside humiliation, is one of my most massive triggers. Always has been. It would also have shown they weren’t listening to me – as the group is not the problem…. my feelings for X are not the problem…. the problem was the handling of the situation and how it made me feel. If I was told the Centre was no longer the place for me it would be the worst thing in the world.

 

So I was not given the chance to explain what I was handing over to X. I had to just throw it in front of him, sit through the group massively triggered, and then leave, knowing that was it…. after I handed the writing over I wasn’t going to talk anymore, so I didn’t get that closure I needed, and didn’t get to explain anything. It left a whole load of uncertainty because I didn’t know what they’d make of it, and without the explanation I needed to quickly give, it was likely there would be misunderstandings on their side. X said he would read it after the groups and he’d email (text) me later. I wandered around town, considering how to end my life that day. I had my first breakdown of last week when I got home. I think I’ve written about this already.

 

I waited all week, dreading a response yet longing for one too. I thought he had forgotten. Or that he was avoiding dealing with me. I had sent a text on the Wednesday saying:

 

Hi X. If you’ve read what I wrote, then I hope you can understand just how difficult it was for me to ask to have that final conversation at the end. I feared that rejection I got.

I understand you felt you couldn’t and I know you said I could talk to someone else but you guys were the only ones I trusted. I don’t want to talk to anyone else about this anymore. I only needed 5 mins to explain a couple of things associated with what I wrote. After nearly 3 weeks of sheer hell I just needed a minute to feel heard & to relieve the anxiety I felt, all alone for the longest fortnight of my life. It’s all I would’ve needed. Being denied that was like being denied what I asked from Z… it replicated the very thing I needed to tell you about. Z made me feel worthless… like a number… a burden. Yesterday confirmed that for me. And again I’m sorry I took up so much of your time and made you late that one time. I felt awful about it. Now I pay the price for that.

So yes, I’m extra triggered now and have to get through at least another week of feeling even worse than the last 3… knowing there will be no relief because I’m never opening up again. That was to be the last time. Once I handed the writing over that was it… no more talking. So I had no closure. Everything’s a giant mess. And I don’t know the way out of it anymore.

L

 

I waited for a response. I wasn’t even sure he received that text. I waited and waited, and on Friday at 16:59 I got a reply:

Hi L, I understand it was difficult for you to ask for a conversation with us at the end of the group. I’m sorry you have felt rejected and not heard. As I said to you on Tuesday, we have been late for the second group on more than one occasion and you are not the reason for that so try not to feel responsible.

After reading your letters we appreciate this situation has triggered a lot of distressing feelings for you and we respect and support your decision not to talk to anyone connected to the Wellbeing Centre, about this anymore. It is sad to hear you feel stuck in your head and are feeling this badly about it all. Although we want to support people’s mental health recovery, we are unable to support your recovery in the way you have requested.

I would urge you to seek support from outside our service. Like you have suggested _______ is one possibility but there is also _____ that covers more general matters as well as bereavement. Another option would be to contact your GP and ask to be referred to the CMHT. I believe they may be better suited to support your recovery needs.

Kind regards ‘X’

 

Can you imagine how that would feel? Not only was I being denied the help I needed (even though I wasn’t still asking for it – and he’d have known that if he’d given me a couple of minutes at the end of the group!!), but that last paragraph sounded very much like being abandoned by the whole service. Like being passed on to someone else as they couldn’t cope with me. The last sentence – ‘I believe they may be better suited to support your recovery needs’….. wouldn’t that make you think you’d been ditched? Especially if you were already in a heightened emotional state like I was.

 

The worst part was that I received that perceived total abandonment at one minute to five on a Friday…. and then his phone would’ve gone off and it would be too late to contact anyone else regarding this. That’s what caused my breakdown. I felt entirely rejected and abandoned, and had no options left. The Centre closed at 5pm. I knew I had to cope over the weekend by myself – entirely by myself, because nobody in my family knows about this – I don’t want them to. So it was kind of like ‘It is sad to hear you feel stuck in your head and are feeling this badly about it all… but here you go, have some more to feel bad about, stuck in your head all weekend on your own!’ … it’s what made me feel I couldn’t survive the weekend. I couldn’t even survive that night.

 

I immediately harmed myself, quite badly. But I wasn’t in my body as I did it. I was watching. I was totally numb. I felt nothing. That was really scary, as I could so easily have continued and I’d have felt nothing. I did something that was actually quite risky and I wouldn’t normally have done, but at that point I didn’t care if I lived or died. That’s the truth. I wanted to die, but what I did wasn’t an active bid to do so. It was more an indifference. But mainly I wasn’t in control of myself anyway. So it just was what it was.

 

It didn’t make me feel any better. I texted X back, knowing his phone would be off, so he’d probably never get the texts anyway, as usually if you text while his phone is off he won’t get it when he turns it on next (which wouldn’t be until Tuesday just gone)… in my mind he probably knew that, so that’s why he left it to the last minute, so I wouldn’t respond. That’s my opinion. I said:

Guess that’s that then. Should never have said a word. This is worse than ____ ( – the other place I went to). Sounded from what you said that I’m no longer welcome at the group / centre … I’m sorry for all this. I never wanted any of it. L

And a bit later, added:

And my recovery need was just to know I mattered and wasn’t an awful person. I guess the opposite is true. Human kindness and compassion was all I needed. I didn’t know that was asking too much. I won’t be asking for help elsewhere. This was it. I can’t go through this ever again. I’m done. Thank you for everything. Sorry it had to end this way. L

 

At that moment I wanted to die. I thought I was going to. That was my goodbye. I don’t know if he even got those replies in the end. I regretted sending them once I was out of my ‘dissociation phase’… but part of me hopes he did get them, so he knows the pain I was in.

 

I did many things that night that I regret… some I don’t properly remember. One was potentially dangerous. I sat in the chaos and mess for three hours, afraid to move. Too overwhelmed to begin to clear things up. I didn’t know where to start. It took me that long before I got up, washed my face and cleaned / patched myself up.

 

During those three hours I phoned the Samaritans. Self-harm wasn’t helping. I knew diazepam wouldn’t calm me down either. I was trapped. I knew I had to phone them or I’d end my life one way or another. I spoke to a man there, which concerned me at first, given the topic that had triggered the whole thing, but he was really helpful. Talking to him, and talking to someone online who’s been a rock for me lately, helped me to see things in a different light. It brought the emotions down to a more manageable level. I did end up taking the diazepam after that, as my mind was obsessing over things and I was too emotionally delicate. I needed the noise to stop. All I did was tell my family that I wasn’t okay, but didn’t want to talk about it. It was just so they knew I was fragile.

 

I talked with the Samaritans about how hard it is in that moment to see beyond that moment. The possibility of things feeling better (or different, as he said it might – rather than ‘better’) in the morning or in a few days, was impossible for me to see. In that moment all there was, was that moment. The pain of it. The despair of it. I couldn’t imagine surviving the weekend. I couldn’t see me surviving that night. I can see why people do end up taking their lives… because in that moment there is nothing else – there is no chance for change. There is no feeling better in the morning. They’re caught up in that intense moment and if they don’t reach out and get another perspective, they can’t see beyond it. Had I not reached out to the Samaritans that night I would’ve been consumed by that moment too.

 

But the next morning not only did it feel different… it felt better. I had anger. Anger at X. It’s almost as if getting that text on the Friday evening broke the spell…. if he could do that to me, then maybe he wasn’t as special as I first thought. He kind of fell off the pedestal I’d put him on. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. That’s not to say it’s a good thing. I won’t ever let them think they did right by me, by pushing me to that point I had to fight for myself. But that’s where I got to the next morning. I found fighting spirit in me. I thought ‘Hell no, I’m not going to let them destroy all the work I’ve done to recover as much as I have’. I wasn’t going to let them dictate my story. I wouldn’t let them win.

 

How it was left, I was unsure if I was even welcome at the group on Tuesday, but rather than avoid it, I decided I would be there, even if I wasn’t meant to. Even if it made X uncomfortable. I would not be forced out, without even being consulted on it. I seriously went there on Tuesday, full of anxiety at the prospect of being turned away and told I wasn’t welcome anymore. Because that’s how the text had made me feel on Friday.

 

But I turned up and everything seemed normal. It was as if nothing had happened at all. I kept quite quiet in the group. And then when it was my chance to talk I mentioned I had a breakdown on the Friday. I didn’t say what had led to it. I didn’t give anything away to anyone, but X would’ve known what I was referring to. It was hard talking about it. It’s not like I took joy in doing it, but I figured I needed to get it out there, to explain how I feel. I talked about how much I learned from the experience. I spoke positively about moving forward, putting all this behind me and starting from here. Anyone who knows me would know it is most definitely not behind me. I just said that to be able to feel more comfortable there and to be a people pleaser. I talked about giving myself the things others won’t give me – so liking myself, valuing myself, being proud of myself etc. – screw those who don’t feel that way, I’ll do it myself. That was a subtle dig obviously… I know that even if I do those things it’s not enough. Only I seem to understand what it was I needed and most importantly WHY. But I’m done explaining it to people now. They clearly don’t want to help me, so I’ll pretend to help myself. My ability to do these things for myself actually hinged on getting that validation from X. But never mind.

 

Now I will do what I said I would in my letter. I’ll pretend I’m better than I am. I’ll go there and act normal, talk about boring stuff, smile, keep people happy. It was nice to be able to go there and act normal. It kind of gave me my power back a little bit. I did what I will always do at the end now. Swiftly got out of there. Won’t be talking to them anymore. Limited interaction. They know everything now. It’s their fault for not listening.

 

I had asked to speak to someone after the group, so I did that, and I talked about the three things that happened, that if done differently would’ve saved me from a breakdown… starting with Z – if she had just been honest to start with and told me what I asked for was not possible, however…. then I would’ve known. The way she dealt with it seemed rushed, like I was being fobbed off and not being listened to… then she was off, and so was the group for a fortnight. So I had two weeks of resentment building, thinking people were ignoring what I was saying. So I wrote what I did…. the second point was that if I had been given two minutes to explain it as I handed it to X, then I would never have received the text on the Friday from him, because he would’ve known I wasn’t making a request, nothing needed doing, he wouldn’t understood the manner and tone of what I wrote, and he’d have known how I’d feel about having the decision made for me that I couldn’t attend anymore. He’d have known I’d be sensitive to that feeling of abandonment and powerlessness. And the third point was that if X hadn’t left it until the final minute of the working week to send that message, then I’d have had options that didn’t include suicide.

 

If he had done it at exactly the same time but on the Thursday, that’d be different. It would’ve allowed me to have my breakdown on the Thursday (which might not have been so bad, as I’d have not felt so trapped without options!), and then on the Friday I could’ve got in touch with someone else from the Wellbeing Centre to confirm the situation, ask if I was even welcome there still, and to talk about it all if necessary. The same could be said if I’d been contacted Friday morning…. I could’ve done something about it. It was the fact I had to wait until at least Monday to do anything at all. That’s what nearly killed me. I hope that’s fed back to him so he understands the impact that would have on someone like me.

 

So I let my feelings be known about the handling of the situation. For once it would be nice to hear ‘We cocked up, we’re sorry…. how can we fix this with you?’ But pigs might fly. Nobody takes responsibility anymore. It’s a shame, as that’s the story of my life, socially too.

 

It turns out I am welcome there… it’s just unfortunate that message didn’t shine through from X last Friday. One thing I talked to this other person about is that the IAPT service left me unhealed, therefore I feared this happening again. And it did. And now they want to leave it unhealed too. So I said I know it WILL happen again, because it’s unhealed and always will be. So I talked about how difficult it is that I’d been denied healing at the last place and now here. I can’t go through it a third time. I won’t survive that. I can barely survive this. I don’t think anyone understands how distressing and intense it is to develop these feelings in this setting. And the handling of it is so important. But because few people talk about these feelings, little is known about it or how to handle it. As I keep finding out. Apparently people aren’t usually as open and honest about it as I’ve been. Trouble is it makes me feel abnormal because they handle it wrong. So I know I must be the only one they’ve faced. I wish they could’ve helped this time. I trusted them to. Now I will leave with open wounds. And will have to avoid mental health services in the future, because I know this will happen again, thanks to the Wellbeing Centre denying me a very simple nod of the head, which could’ve prevented all of this and a future of pain for me. That’s what bugs me. It was so simple. That one little gesture could’ve fixed my whole life. Now it’ll never be fixed.

 

The thing that’s troubled me since discussing this with that other person afterwards, is I was given the sense that it was actually X who didn’t want to help me in the way I’d asked. I’d always assumed it was his supervisor (Z). It’s tough now, thinking he is the one holding me back from my recovery. Changes my view of him. But also throws up lots of questions and theories about why it is. Could it be he’s uncomfortable with his emotions? Could it be he fears me or is disgusted by me, and can’t fathom forcing words out that could heal me, because they’re such lies? Could it be he has some sort of feelings towards me too, and worries that by helping me in the way I’d asked, it would make them stronger? It feels big-headed to suggest that last one, but it’s something I’ve not really considered before. Maybe it’s not as fully one-sided as I’ve always stated. Doesn’t mean he feels the same for me, or that anything could happen. I’m a realist here. But everyone’s human. He could feel something. It may not be about me being a risk to them, but him being a risk to me… It could be to stop him falling for me and risking his own job. That’s what I mean – it’s so open, the possibilities for why it wasn’t granted. It makes my mind go haywire. It could be the one I believe most – that he wants me to suffer… he thinks he knows best and that denying me it, will help me more. In which case f*** him / them. Had that at the IAPT place, them making me push myself instead of helping me how I asked. All it did was damage my trust in them and stopped me asking for help.  Or the other possibility is that he’s just like all the guys I’ve known in my life, and likes the ego-stroke – I had mentioned that being allowed the closure might stop me from longing for someone as long as I usually do in the absence of closure. It might help me move on. Maybe he doesn’t want me to move on. Maybe he wants to know that I still want him and can’t get over him….

 

Do you see how this one little decision to deny me the healing I needed, has thrown every possible explanation into the air and confused the hell out of me? Denying me what I needed to hear drags me in two very different directions – one where he couldn’t confirm the things I needed to believe, because the opposite is actually the truth, and the other one where he can’t confirm them because he has feelings too… him reassuring me of the things I asked for would’ve settled the question for good. It would have firmly told me he feels nothing for me, but he still values me as a person. It’s what I needed. The denial of that tells me he either doesn’t value me as a person or he does feel something, if he can’t say those words on a professional level. If I had been allowed what I asked for, or even a quarter of what I asked for, none of this would’ve happened and everything would be right in the world again. I know it. No matter what anyone says, it would’ve been enough for me.

 

I do honestly believe that everything I needed to hear but was denied, is now untrue. That the opposite is felt instead. I do feel inferior in the group. I feel uncomfortable. At times I felt that X was saying things broadly to the group, but as a means of saying some of the things I’d needed to hear… almost like making up for not doing it….  but I don’t know. It missed the point anyway. I accept my fate now, that I am a number in mental health services, and they don’t care that I feel that way. Because it’s a fact. To them it’s a fact. The person I spoke to at the end also said that he thinks the things I asked for are all true anyway. That didn’t help because did he mean he thinks they’re true from his perspective? Just like Z said things… or did he mean that he thinks X would agree too? That wasn’t clear. And the point is if X doesn’t think those things it doesn’t matter what anyone else tells me. They just don’t get that.

 

I’ve told them I need to turn this around because I won’t seek help elsewhere in the future. It’s fine them saying the CMHT are more suited to my needs, but that would mean I have to find someone I feel this way about in the CMHT and pray to God they will help me in the way these previous two places refused to. I wouldn’t hold my breath. The mental health team would probably reject me anyway. So I’m not being passed on just to avoid them dealing with me. The point is, going to another service to discuss how I feel about X, makes no sense. I know what it is I need. It was very simple to do. They refused to do it. There could have been a way they could’ve done it that would’ve satisfied us both. They just didn’t want to. No amount of talking about him to someone else will deliver what I asked for. And their withholding of what I asked for is cruel. It was very basic, yet left me feeling I was asking too much. That I was too demanding. Imagine what that does to the self-worth…

 

I’m not okay with the Wellbeing Centre. I’m not okay with Z. I’m not okay with X even. Yes I still have feelings for him. But they’re not all love and light now. But I won’t let them / him beat me. I will make them face me every week, reminded of how they let me down… how they destroyed my recovery…. I won’t leave. That would be too easy for them.

 

This will always hurt. I don’t know how I can cope with it to be honest. I feel so angry. I feel frustrated, resentful, paranoid, untrusting, trapped, humiliated, worthless, ignored, silenced and very, very hurt. But my options are to push on through it all, or to die. So I will fight for as long as I can. I won’t be a bother to them. I will be pleasant. I will put on a mask. I may even accidentally make them feel like they’ve helped me, that I’ve turned a corner and feel better…. but they haven’t, I haven’t and I don’t. It’s all a lie. I’m just a stubborn bitch who doesn’t give up. My heart will close now, for good. I will make others feel comfortable. That’s my aim. And I will stuff down everything I feel. If this affects me badly further down the road, so be it… they could’ve prevented it. And they will always know that.

 

 

 

The Past Is Never The Past.

*Suicide references near the end*

 

 

 

Nobody accepted me at school….. they couldn’t accept that I was quiet, shy and serious… they questioned it. They thought there was something ‘wrong’ with me. 

Nobody accepts me now …. they think I’m too sensitive, “negative” and intense…. they say I make life difficult for myself by letting things get to me… they tell me to just let go of things… they blame me for my mental illness and invalidate my pain.

 

 

My best friend in primary school, Laura, ditched me to be friends with the girl who was bullying me, Nicola. Nicola loved to rub it in my face.

 

My best friend Lou, ditched me and replaced me with my former ‘friend’, Hannah, who essentially bullied me. It feels the same.

 

 

In secondary school I was psychologically and physically bullied by a girl and her minions, in front of a whole class – nobody stood up for me… not one person – even the teacher let it happen.

 

Falling out with Hannah she broadcast it to the rest of our friends, and none of them stood up for me. Nobody defended me or told her to sort things out with me.

 

 

At primary school I had to beg to tag along with people at lunchtime, just to not be alone.

 

I have to beg people to talk to me, chase after people, and this year had to beg people to go with me to a gig, so I didn’t have to go alone – even offering a free ticket. It’s just as humiliating now as back at school.

 

 

 

At school I stood alone by the wall, watching everyone else have fun without me, feeling there was something wrong with me and I deserved to be alone.

 

I stand alone, talking to myself on my wall, watching everyone else live their lives happily, excluding me… thinking I must deserve it… it must be me, as anyone else would be included. It’s personal.

 

 

Hannah turned against me – I don’t know why… she blamed me, rejected my attempts to resolve things, then avoided communicating with me by bitching to Lou about me, and blocked me.

 

Lou turned against me – I don’t know why… she blamed me, rejected my attempts to resolve things, then avoided communicating with me and blocked me.

 

 

Hannah showed no interest in resolving things with ME, her original friend from school. She wanted to have my best friend in her life instead.

 

Lou showed no interest in resolving things with ME, her friend of thirteen years. She did however want Hannah, my former friend from school, in her life instead.

 

 

BOTH prioritised each other over me.

BOTH saw it as too much effort to fix things… giving up at the first hurdle… didn’t value me.

BOTH probably saw me as “negative” (aka depressed / mentally ill & needing support from friends!)

BOTH failed to understand mental illness.

BOTH refused to acknowledge they hurt me or discuss it.

BOTH wanted my silence on the topic.

BOTH preferred me as a doormat.

BOTH sat back and expected me to put in the effort after they were the ones who hurt me. Weren’t prepared to fight for me or prove they cared.

BOTH communicated how utterly worthless they think I am.

BOTH prefer positivity in others – which they could both have, due to their circumstances being better than mine, and not having my mental illness, and not being hurt and abandoned by their friends!

BOTH abandoned me because of things related to my mental health…. both shallow…. and disloyal.

BOTH chose to kick me after tossing me into the gutter.

 

Now they’re friends.

Now Hannah knows more about Lou and her life than I do.

Lou doesn’t know how broken I am about this.

She doesn’t know that all I wanted was a friend who saw me as worth the effort…

That goes for both of them.

I just wanted them to fight for ME… their friend.

I introduced all my friends to each other, and now my life is destroyed as a result of that stupid choice.

They’re all friends with Lou now. She has no clue how that feels now she’s dumped me too.

I wish any of them would be my friend again right now – but that requires communicating and dealing with the issues that broke things in the first place. They can’t just sweep it under the rug. I wanted to be worth it to them.

They don’t want me in their lives though. They only want each other.

It hurts that Hannah told Lou she never wanted to hear from me again, but they want to know each other. I was innocent in both cases, and somehow ended up being the one neither of them want to talk to. I feel they are the same person now. They think the same. I assume Lou thinks I’m ‘toxic’ too. This has ruined me more than I can put into words. It’s so messed up.

They’re both happily getting on with their lives of positivity, whilst I’m left behind, completely paralysed by all this. They would never choose me now, not how I am right now… but I’m that way as a result of their actions….

Just like guys in the past – they created the monster then ran from it. They made me who I am and then ditched me because of who I am, all the while making me think it was my fault and I deserved it.

They are both responsible for what happens to me now.

 

 

I just feel I cannot escape the past. I feel trapped… doomed to be excluded, abandoned, replaced, neglected, alone, rejected for the rest of my life. I cannot live a life like this.

 

If people continue to treat me the same as they always used to, what hope is there? I really must be worth nothing in this world. I really must be here to just be used by others and dumped as soon as something better comes along. The bullies taught me this. My ‘friends’ taught me this.

 

Nothing and nobody can undo the damage done. It’s too late. Therapy won’t even work now. It’ll only work for a few hours… days if I’m lucky, but my mind is so unstable now, all the work done is undone within that timeframe and everything is hopeless again.

 

Just like a week ago I started writing a blog about my appointment at the Wellbeing Centre, and the positive corner I’d turned regarding past friends…. I was going to move on, learn to love myself, forget them as they were never really my friends if they treated me that way…. Now my mind leaps all over the place regarding them. I hate them. I want revenge. I want to try and resolve things. I want answers. I want to just tell them how shit it was to end a thirteen year friendship over the damn internet. I feel I deserved to be ditched. I feel outraged that I was abandoned like that. I want to apologise and chase to fix things. I want to hurt myself. It just never ends, the sickening twists and turns in my mind at 300mph…. it makes me want to end my life.

 

My mind is too broken to be mended. The damage ‘friends’ did to me, and those who stood idly by, has ended any hope of me ever recovering. The only true friend I ever had was Liv. Now she’s gone from this world. And nobody seems to give a shit about that.

 

There are so many reasons to not exist anymore. The reasons to hold on are few and losing their strength and power every minute of every day. I can’t live in this mind anymore, and it’s completely hopeless that anyone can ever help me with it, because nobody understands how damaged I am. They can’t see it externally…. it’s all happening inside my head, with a stony look on my face. How could they ever understand the chaos in my head? Until they do, I won’t believe they can ever help me. Nobody even wants to help me. I cannot be helped. I don’t have the strength to help myself anymore. I’m giving up. Just living makes me feel sick at the moment. The past is never the past for me. It’s the present and the future. I’m scarred all the way through me because of these people. I can never forget. I can never heal. And that means I cannot survive here.

How can I even live in a world where those who were meant to care about me, hurt me and aren’t even sorry about the fatal wounds they left me with? They didn’t see me as worthy of a conversation. They just used the ‘block’ button and virtually told me to go fuck myself. That’s what they honestly thought of me and the friendship I gave them for all that time. And with that and losing Liv, and my granddad, and how terrifying, unsafe and uncertain life feels now, I just can’t carry on. Why should I? It’s all too much… the noise in my head… the memories…. the abandonments…. the pain…. the anger…. the questions…. all of it. I want it to stop. But it never will. Because those cowards never gave me closure. And then they’ll wonder why I ‘hold a grudge’. I just can’t do this anymore.

 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

Soon.

Soon

*Suicide theme*

 

 

I never recovered from Adam disappearing on me.
I never recovered from the things Nick said.
I never recovered from the things Joe did.
I never recovered from Gill’s betrayal, and losing her and Sam.
I never recovered from how Hannah treated me.
I never recovered from losing Grampa.
I never recovered from therapy and my attachment to Matt.
I never recovered from being neglected on the first anniversary of my loss.
I never recovered from all the abuse online last year.
I never recovered from the way you treated me.
I never recovered from you ghosting me, like everyone else did.
I never recovered from you blocking me.
I never recovered from Liv taking her own life.
I never recovered from your absence in the wake of that.
I never recovered from losing Chloe and Logan from my life.
I never recovered from losing you.

 

I never recovered.

Not from any of it.

Do you get it now?

Do you understand why I changed?

Do you understand why I’m desperate to end my own life?

I never recovered from any of it. The experiences I had, built up and became too much.

I wasn’t just battling one thing at a time. I was being hit by all of these things over and over again, each time a new loss, a new traumatic event or anything remotely painful occurred.

I can’t recover from any of it. I never will.

And you turning your back on me when you did, that was the terminal moment of my life.

That was the moment I knew I’m destined to take my own life sooner or later.

When I had you I had at least the hope of recovery. I had something worth recovering for. I had the kids. I had someone I thought cared. I had someone who never gave up on me.

But you did.

You gave up on me too.

Now there’s nothing left.

To fight against that mountain of loss and trauma is hard enough.

To have to do it without your best friend by your side is impossible.

To have your best friend jump up and down on top of that mountain, increasing the load, is unbearable.

The worst part is that you never were to understand the layers of trauma and pain I felt.

You could never sympathise, as you didn’t know the mountain of memories and emotions on my shoulders.

You didn’t know the burden I had to carry.

I carried it alone.

I didn’t want to burden you or anyone else.

And somehow I still did.

Even keeping my distance from you, I was still ‘too much’.

You walked away.

In my mind and heart I feel you never thought of me again.

You were happier.

You were free.

You forgot all about me.

You were friends with Sam, with Gill, with Hannah – you replaced me with her.

What a win for them all… to know we’re not friends anymore… that you cut me out.

Eight months… eight months since you blocked me… the first time.

You blocked every way of me connecting with you again.

You moved house, and told me nothing of it.

Can you not see the pain that would cause?

What did I do to deserve all this?

I can’t recover.

I won’t recover.

This is too much.

I have no life to return to if I do recover.

Everything is gone.

Liv is gone. You’re gone. The kids are gone.

Everything has changed.

All the people who were once my friends have grown up and created lives for themselves. You would know – they’re your friends now.

And I’m stuck here. Powerless. Paralysed. Unable to change. Unable to survive. Because you all destroyed me. You all took my trust and my care and crapped all over it. You left me a broken mess on the cold floor. You left me too traumatised to even move anymore.

With you in my life I could see a little light.

Now there’s pitch black.

There’s only the desperate urge to end this life.

There’s silence.

No friends. No connections. Nothing.

Just emptiness and anticipation of death.

You did this to me.

I wish you could’ve understood the weight I carried in my heart and my mind, from all that’s scarred me forever.

I wish you would’ve helped bear the load.

I wish you hadn’t added to the pile.

I remember at therapy, with my attachment to Matt, saying that I knew I was facing another loss, which would add to the pile of loss and pain… the unresolved trauma. I was right. That’s what happened.

A lot has happened since then, to add to that ‘pile’.

You.

Liv.

So much more.

What makes it the worst is I didn’t want any of this.

I didn’t want to lose you.

I mentioned stepping back for my mental health and our friendship.

I never would have blocked you.

You made it permanent.

Why??

Why do you hate me so much?

Do you not understand what you’ve done to me?

Do you honestly want me to kill myself?

Is that it?

Because if not then you’ve gone about everything so utterly wrong.

Do you know that I’ve written you a note for when that time comes…. and something I wanted the kids to know too….God knows how I’ll get it to you, now I don’t know where in the world you live.

But do you really want me to leave this world thinking you mean me harm and hate me? Do you want to have to live with that on your conscience for the rest of your life? That you could’ve sorted things out with me and not pushed me towards this certainty with your cruel abandonment, when I was already breaking under the weight of everything else in the last ten years…

How will you live, knowing you could have done something to prevent this?

I deserved more.

I deserved enough respect to talk to me, and not just abandon me so casually.

Did thirteen years really mean so little to you?

Did I mean so little?

In the last three years a lot has happened…

I had to learn to live in a world with grief in my heart. Real grief. My first loss.

My world changed. I never recovered from that.

I had a breakdown at therapy and went down a slippery slope with my self-harm. I never recovered from that.

I was neglected by everyone… I was isolated whilst experiencing this new grief, and the breakdown of my mental health. I never recovered from that.

I felt you pulling away from me… a long abandonment over about a year. I was right to fear losing you. That fear affected me in ways I never expected. I will never recover from losing you and the kids.

I lost Liv…. five weeks before I was finally set to see her again in person. It would never happen. I’ll never get to talk to her again. I’ll never get over that….. now I want to be with her. I don’t want to exist in this hell of a world, where nothing is right, and nothing is left, and I’m buried under that mountain of hurt and loss. That mountain you stuck your flag in, to claim a victory over me, as you blocked me… taking all the power for yourself to decide when I may talk to you again.

You won.

You defeated me.

Well done.

You were in control.

All the good it’ll do you when I’m gone.

But I feel you don’t care an inch about that.

But let me tell you, from experience…. losing a friend to suicide is one of the most traumatic things you could ever experience…. all the words you never got to say to them…. the questions unanswered…. feeling you could’ve said or done something to stop it happening. It’s a brief moment and they’re gone. You can’t change it. You can’t get them back. You have to live with the burden for the rest of your life. It’s a burden I can’t carry…. not on my own…. not now I’ve lost you too.

But you’ll be alright. You have lots of other friends to help you carry ‘the burden’ of losing me, should you feel anything about it when it happens.

You’ll never have to feel what I feel now.

You’ll never know how alone I’ve felt.

You’ll never know the weight I carried in total isolation.

You’re lucky.

You’ll quickly recover.

You don’t have my illness.

You weren’t screwed over by everyone you ever trusted.

You don’t have my memories.

You’ll survive.

You survived losing me as your friend. You chose it. You’ll survive losing me forever. As far as I know this is it for us forever anyway…. that’s how it feels. So you’ve already adjusted to my absence. It won’t make much difference my being gone.

And you’d better not cry, or come to the funeral – not that I’d have one… nobody would be there.

You could’ve done something… all you had to do was care. All you had to do was put our friendship ahead of your pride. All you had to do was talk to me.

You just had to not walk away from me at the lowest point of my life and treat me like I was nothing.

But then I guess I really am nothing.

If I was anything to you then you would’ve stayed and fought for me, like I tried to do for you.

You wouldn’t have given up.

You wouldn’t have run away.

Everyone runs away.

It’s the biggest sign they never cared.

Nobody ever cared.

I was just a game to them all.

A game of ‘power’.

I’m done being a pawn in a game of ‘control’…. simply used to boost the ego or get something.

I may not deserve more.

I will never have more.

But I’m done.

I won’t be used anymore.

I won’t be ignored anymore.

I won’t be mistreated anymore.

I won’t BE anymore.

Soon.

 

 

 

* Just expressing feelings. I do feel all this, but it’s not imminent,
so nobody worry about me…. not that people tend to…*

Burdened.

BURDEN

*Strong suicide theme*

 

 

My head is packed full of noise at the moment and I can’t tell what’s what. I don’t know how I feel, what I think or what to do. I don’t even know how to begin unravelling the chaos inside. I feel like I need to write it out but I don’t know where to start. How on earth do I explain everything I’m experiencing? It’s not possible.

It’s been a tough week and nobody even knows about it. With World Suicide Prevention Week, it’s triggered a lot of memories and emotions surrounding the loss of my friend to suicide four months ago. Seeing all the posts / tweets about suicide has been upsetting. Oddly enough the thing that upset me the most was people saying ‘suicide isn’t selfish…. those who think it is are the selfish ones’. I thought, how lovely it must be to see things so simplistically. I have news for people – we’re ALL selfish. Every single one of us. If we’re not then we’re not living life correctly. We all think about things from our perspective. Have these people ever really considered what they’d be like if they lost someone to suicide? They have this view that you shouldn’t make someone’s suicide all about you. I’m sorry but it is about me. It’s about everyone her life touched. Yes she was in pain and couldn’t go on. It’s about her pain and her tragic end to her life. But the moment someone completes suicide it ceases to be about that person anymore and their pain….. it becomes a new wave of pain for everyone else. To say otherwise is to say we shouldn’t grieve the loss of them…. and to not grieve is to deny ever loving them.

Some people have the view that the grief and sadness someone feels at losing someone to suicide, cannot compare to the pain someone feels to want to end their life. I disagree. I don’t think those people can legitimately say that unless they have experienced both. I have experienced both. I am experiencing both right now. Very often those preaching about ‘not judging’ suicidal people and calling those bereaved by suicide ‘selfish’, are people who only have one side of the story… quite often their own experiences of suicidal feelings / attempts on their own lives. They tell others not to judge unless they have been there, whilst judging those who are grieving the loss of someone to suicide. They haven’t been there, they cannot understand how it feels.

I do not think my friend was genuinely and deliberately selfish. I know suicidal feelings like the back of my hand. I understand it. I know it’s part of a mental illness. A symptom that claims lives. It’s something that robs you of your ability to think and see clearly. It distorts reality and makes you feel and believe you are a burden, nobody cares and the world would be better without you. It is an illness. But it can still be seen as selfish. It doesn’t mean the person was selfish. They likely weren’t in their right mind. But it is perfectly normal and natural for loved ones to see it as selfish. I’ll tell you why, from my own feelings in regards to my friend:

  1. She didn’t give me the opportunity to help her. If I had known how she really felt, I would’ve done anything for her. But she denied me the chance to save her life. And I have to live with that forever.
  2. She didn’t give me a goodbye. She just went. I had no closure. I had to make that closure by going to her funeral to say my goodbye. But she didn’t respect me enough to say goodbye or that she was sorry for leaving me. She abandoned me.
  3. She knew how alone I was and what I’d been through. She left me with nobody and nothing, and I’ve now completely shut down and closed off from everyone.
  4. I was due to see her five weeks later – we were looking forward to a concert together and finally seeing each other again. She left me with nobody to go with initially… I had to go round begging people to go with me. I also had to attend the event whilst grieving… having gone to her funeral the week before. I never got to see her again. It felt like I was worthless…. she couldn’t hold on long enough to see me. It felt like a ‘rejection’ of me. It felt like she didn’t want to see me. Like she didn’t care about me.

These points would make some on Twitter bark at me that I’m being selfish, making it about me and not caring about her suffering. I would totally lose it at those people were they to do that. My point is that I am grieving. It’s perfectly acceptable for me to have these thoughts and feelings. They’re not often talked about as we have to appear a certain way, to avoid ‘stigma’. But those who have lost someone to suicide are faced with stigma too. They’re made to feel guilty for having the sorts of views I have just listed. They’re made to feel bad about their anger and for blaming the person. Ultimately I know her suicide was not about me in the slightest – it was about the torment in her own mind. I know that. But I haven’t reached that point in my grief yet – it’s only been four damn months! It’s a process. It takes time. Right now it feels like something done to me. I shouldn’t be shamed for feeling this way, especially by people who have no clue what it’s like to lose someone to suicide.

This last week has taught me I’m fighting the wrong battle. I no longer associate myself with the ‘mental health community’ and fighting stigma against mental illness no matter what. I will fight against it, but when it crosses over into stigma against others who are suffering (e.g. those grieving due to suicide), I will side with the bereaved. I know how suicidal thoughts feel. At this moment I want to end my life. I don’t want to exist anymore. I do not see me being here in a year. That’s why I’m reluctant to buy a ticket for myself to see my favourite band on my birthday next year… what’s the point? I won’t be here then. I know suicidal feelings too well. I know what hell I exist in right now. But what gives me the right to say that what I feel now is worse than what my family would feel if I took my own life? You cannot compare pain like that. That in itself is selfish… thinking your suffering is worse than someone else’s would be.

Suicide spreads. Those who lose someone to suicide are at risk of trying to take their own lives too. They can be left traumatised. They can develop a mental illness as a result, and end up down the same path. And having people say not to make someone’s suicide about you, is the worst thing you can do. It tells those people to shove it down, not talk about it and this will only compound their own struggles with mental illness. Suicide is a silent killer and many die as a result of not talking about how they truly feel…. so for mental health advocates to invalidate people’s feelings and grief and telling them to say nothing, and not be open about how they really feel, it’s damaging and they’re perpetuating the silence of suicide.

 

I have no support around me anymore. The safety net I once had has morphed into the noose around my neck. (1)

 

Those who talk about such things probably don’t know what grief feels like. How it tears your world apart and leaves a hole in your heart. That is just ‘normal’ grief. Grief from suicide is more complex and traumatic than any other loss. It’s a known fact. That’s not to diminish grief from other causes. All loss is traumatic and the worst pain you can imagine. But unless you’ve been affected by someone’s suicide, you have no idea how that feels.

Personally as well, if you haven’t lost someone to suicide then you don’t know what that’s like… to have to cope with that whilst having BPD, where your emotions are more intense. And throw into the mix already feeling suicidal yourself…. and having no friends left, so having to deal with it all on your own. Or rather not deal with it on your own.

How can I then be expected to not make her death about ME…? The point is whilst suicide is not intentionally selfish it does have consequences for other people. I remember someone even saying online before the funeral, if you’re coming then don’t make it all about you, and act like the ‘best friend’. I let that go, on accounts of them grieving. But I took that to heart. That really pierced down to the bone. That was another instance of ‘don’t make it about you’ – i.e. don’t be ‘selfish’. I had no intention of it. And it hurt that it could even be suggested that I would. It may not have been aimed at me, but as I was ‘uninvited’ it felt like it was a pointed comment. I felt they were trying to put me off going. Like I wasn’t welcome. I wasn’t ever going to act like the ‘best friend’ – I never was her best friend. She was the BEST friend I’ve ever had, in the sense that nobody could be better than she was. And I did know her since she was seventeen at least…. she was a huge part of my life, even if we only met up in person once. There’s a gaping hole in my life without her. Nobody has a right to deny that for me. It just felt as though I was being told I didn’t matter to her, so don’t pretend that I did. And when my whole issue in the past year had been that I felt I didn’t matter to anyone, and she was the only one who ever cared about me, that damn hurt. It was torture. I let it go, as I said, but months later it still stabs me in the heart when I think of it. I went to that funeral to show her family she was loved. To show support for them as I felt it’s what my friend would’ve wanted. She may never have expected for me to go to her funeral, but that’s what friends do. That’s how much she mattered to me. I wouldn’t have done that for just anyone. Our friendship mattered…. she wouldn’t want people to make me feel I was nothing to her. I know that. I went to a new place completely alone, for a couple of hours to say goodbye. I had to see her one more time. I never got to see her a month later as planned. She denied me the chance to see her and say goodbye. So I had to go. It was horrible to have to do. It still vividly haunts me today. But it was necessary. I didn’t make it about me. I popped in and ducked out just as swiftly. Yet I beat myself up for weeks afterwards, feeling guilty for intruding. She would hate that I felt that way. I’m not who people may have thought I was. I didn’t make it about me.

But now I’m left entirely alone to survive, I think I’m allowed to make this loss about me. It’s not just about me. But it has impacted on my life, and I shouldn’t be made to feel guilty for admitting that. I have nobody to talk to now. I’m invisible. She always made me feel visible. She’d always remind me what a good person I was. Now I can’t believe I am as I have nobody to help me believe that. There’s no permanence with what’s wrong with me. Sentiments only exist as long as they are said. She’ll never say those words again, and there’s nobody else to say them. So to me it doesn’t exist. I’m not a good person. I don’t know what I’m doing half the time. And I don’t matter to anyone now. And she’s not here to reassure me otherwise.

Her taking her own life has left me wanting to take my own. Feeling it is a certainty now. I see no way of recovering anymore. I’ve lost the two oldest friendships I’ve ever had, both of them early this year. There’s nothing left for me now. To start with I had people telling me what she would want for me… and that she wouldn’t want me to do that… but if she did it, then there’s no reason I shouldn’t. The only thing that stops me from doing it, is thinking how it would affect my family….. the belief that it IS selfish is the one thing that stops me from taking my own life. So I think it’s actually DANGEROUS for mental health advocates to send out a message that it’s somehow courageous and selfless to take your own life…. because you think you’re doing everyone a favour, not being a burden to them…. this is dangerous information to put out there. There needs to be balance.

 

The only thing that stops me from doing it, is thinking how it would affect my family….. the belief that it IS selfish is the one thing that stops me from taking my own life.

 

I think people who are suicidal need to be told they’re not bad people for feeling that way or for attempting to end their lives…. BUT they need to hear the reality. I understand it, I really do…. I feel like the biggest burden to everyone right now. It’s why I isolated myself last year and this year. So often I think about ending my life to unburden other people – but this is based on distorted thinking….

No matter how much of a burden you think you are with your illness, you are NOT a burden to your loved ones. They would rather you were here, asking for help, and being in their lives, than to never be able to see or talk to you again. The thing that burdens people the most is ending your life. That is the heaviest burden known to man. I have to carry that burden with me for the rest of my days, however many that may be. Her family have to carry that burden forever.

I am mentally ill. I feel suicidal. And I am carrying the weight of suicide by my one remaining friend. I don’t feel it can get worse than that. I have to live with that loss forever. This doesn’t encourage me to get better. It makes me want to die because the burden is too much to carry on my own, but that’s where I am in my life now because of her, and because of my best friend who turned her back on me a couple of months prior to my other friend dying. I have no reason to recover.

So suicide does impact on other people. And in that way it can be viewed as ‘selfish’. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with feeling that, if you are bereaved by suicide. I think people who have no clue of suicidal feelings, OR losing someone to suicide, and just sit on a train complaining about being late because of a ‘jumper’ – that’s wrong. Those people should be challenged. But when people are fighting stigma against the suicidal among us, they ought to remember that some of us are grieving and grief brings out all sorts of emotions, and beliefs. There may come a day when I defend my friend and say suicide is NOT selfish at all. I am not there yet, because it’s only been four months.

But right now it is unintentionally selfish. Some people take their own lives to unburden others. They think they’re helping other people by doing it. But a lot of the time people want to end their lives just to end their pain. Everything else goes out the window. That’s why people believe it is selfish, because they think we’re only thinking of ourselves and our pain, and not considering those we’d leave behind – and sometimes that’s probably true – we probably do forget about them and their potential pain. Or we think they’ll get over it. Or that they don’t care enough to grieve. And sometimes we do think of those we’d leave behind, but that thought isn’t enough to survive what we’re experiencing inside. So ultimately the thoughts of ‘self’ win.

It’s okay to be selfish. It’s okay to feel that suicide is selfish, but not think badly of the person themselves. I know that’s hard to comprehend. But you can think something is selfish yet is not a bad thing. Look, people think I’m selfish for my grieving process and for ‘making it about me’….. and I think those people who judge me for things like I’m writing here, they too are selfish. Because they’re thinking about themselves – their own opinions…. and they’re intolerant of a different view. They don’t stop to question the reason I might have this view… why I might be upset by people saying ‘suicide isn’t selfish’. It’s not a black and white case of me thinking that therefore I’m an ignorant, judgemental prick. But there are genuinely people who would read this post and think that about me. But the REASON I’m upset by that statement is because I have personally lost someone to suicide, therefore I know how it feels. I have conflicting views about suicide. It’s very confusing for me, and it’s a part of grief. So having people tell me it’s wrong to feel a certain way, is damaging in my journey to healing from loss. I’m not one of those ignorant people who don’t know what it feels like. I know perfectly well how it feels. Exactly four years to the day before my friend took her own life, I considered jumping off a bridge. It was the closest I had come to doing something like that.

So I know all about it. I’m also feeling the most hopeless and helpless I ever have. I’m strongly considering suicide myself. I haven’t quite reached that point where anyone needs to immediately worry. But I have an unhealthy obsession with not existing anymore. That’s why reading endless tweets about suicide was very triggering for me.

All these stories about ‘It really DOES get better… look at me now’…. they all felt empty. It may well get better for a lot of people, who have lives to return to…. but I feel like the exception. That’s what I felt when watching a programme about how to help people who are suicidal. I felt all those suggestions would work for someone else but not me. I felt people would care and be there to save other people, but not me. I felt like others can be saved, but I am the exception. I felt dead inside watching that programme. I feel it’s too late for me to be helped. No help can bring back what I’ve lost. I have no support around me anymore. The safety net I once had has morphed into the noose around my neck. The two friends I had left, who could have saved me from this pain and this certain fate, they abandoned me in one way or another. They are the reason I don’t want to exist anymore. I have nobody else to catch me. Everyone else willingly watched me drown or just didn’t even notice I was drowning. I didn’t exist to any of them. So I’ve cut everyone out now. I’m on my own.

I used to see my Godchildren as a part of my future…. it was the one thing I was certain of – that I’d always be in their lives and watch them grow. But when my best friend turned her back on me at my lowest point, she took them with her. So any hope for a future I had, it’s gone now. I’ve not seen them for over a year and half. The bond I had with my God-daughter is broken, along with my heart. I don’t think I’ll ever recover from the pain of that lost bond. My Godson has started school now apparently. My friend moved house apparently…. all of this happened without her telling me anything about it. She cut me out of her life well over a year ago. It was a long drawn-out abandonment and it destroyed me. I have no reason for living anymore. I have too many traumatic experiences from the last couple of years. I have nothing to aim for. And even if I could conjure up some new friends – it takes a long time to cultivate the sorts of friendships I’ve lost this year. And I never will be able to, because I will not trust anyone again, thanks to my former best friend. I will be expecting abandonment and rejection from everyone I meet now. If my best friend of over thirteen years can give up on me because of my mental illness, then nobody else will stick around. They’ll only tolerate me if I pretend to be okay. As long as I never show my reality people will humour me, at best. I used to hide my mental illness from everyone. After my breakdown at therapy two years ago, it let a lot out, and I could no longer hide how I felt. The more ill I got publicly, the less people wanted to do with me, including her. Once the mask of wellness slipped and she saw the true face of depression and BPD, she didn’t want to know me anymore. That’s how it feels. So my self-worth is non-existent now. I don’t believe anyone will ever truly like me. I know for a fact that no man will ever see me as attractive ever again. So I’ve accepted I’m going to die an old spinster…. assuming I survive that long, which I highly doubt right now.

I just feel too broken. Too traumatised. Too alone. I’m a lost cause. I’m feeling too hopeless, that I’m not even doing things I’m meant to be doing. I’ve not approached anyone for help yet… because I don’t believe I can be helped. This feels too big an obstacle for anyone to help me. I need grief counselling… but the problem is not just grief, it’s the mess that’s left behind – my mental illness, my grief, it’s all wrapped up together. Being abandoned by everyone… that affects my mental health and my grief…. my grief affects my mental health and vice versa, and then people abandon me because of it…..which makes me paranoid, which pushes people away…. makes me feel unsupported in my grief…. more mentally ill……. want to die….. see no future – seriously when I picture it, it’s black. There’s literally NOTHING in my future now. Because of abandonment. Because of grief and loss. Trauma and broken trust. Being made to feel worthless and not deserving of a goodbye or a conversation from my best friend. If she didn’t value me who the fuck is going to in this life? And if nobody values me and I’ll be made to feel this shit forever, then I don’t want to live a minute more. What have I done to deserve this?? I feel enraged about it. And then I beat myself up for it, thinking of course I deserved everything that’s happened. I’m an awful person. Another reason to die. But I can’t die, because it’s selfish and would hurt my family. My family are all I have to keep me alive. And even they don’t know how I feel at the moment. I can’t talk to them about any of it. This is how alone I am. This is the most I’ve talked about my feelings in a long time. And my mind’s telling me I shouldn’t have done it. I should keep it all in and let it build until I end my life.

 

I have no support around me anymore. The safety net I once had has morphed into the noose around my neck.

 

Mental health services have changed so much in the last ten years, since I did DBT. They won’t help me until I’ve been through ‘lesser services’. But they all are about ‘recovery’ – you have to want to get better and put the work in. The trouble is I’m beyond that now. They left me too long and too much has happened since. I don’t ‘want’ to get better….. because I cannot see that possibility anymore. It’s impossible to focus on ‘recovery’ when you cannot see the point in it. When you just can’t exist in this life anymore. When no matter what work you do on yourself, your circumstances will still be the same… you’ll still be utterly alone at the end of any work you do. You’ll still be grieving and have lost everything. You’ll still have wasted years of your life and be a failure. What is the point? And people won’t suddenly treat you better than they have. I’ve been trodden on too many times now, I feel it’s my lot in life. And I don’t want to participate in that anymore. I want it over with. I honestly feel even DBT won’t help me at this point. I have no clue what would – because my problem is not just my mental health or that I’m grieving… it’s the people I had around me…. you can’t force people to care about you. I have nobody to care about me anymore. You can’t replace that. And without that, I can’t recover. This world is what is killing me. It’s the reason I can’t live in it. The people. My irrelevance. And everything people have put me through in the last few years. You can’t erase that amount of emotional trauma. And I can’t live in this world with all of that inside me. So tell me…… who do I turn to, to help me with that?

Bereavement counselling won’t touch it. Mental health services will see my mental health as complicated by grief, therefore signpost me to bereavement counselling. There is nobody in this world who can help with the scale of this problem. And even if there was… I wouldn’t believe they can help me. I won’t believe that I can be saved. How do you help someone like that? How?? I’ll always believe people will give up on me, if I don’t seem to be ‘engaging’ with their attempts to get me to help myself. That’s what it’s all about – I have to help myself. That’s what services are like now…. they don’t help you. They help you to help yourself. So what would they do with me? Write me off as the lost cause I feel I am? Or would they overcompensate with nauseating positivity…. ? I’ve had that before. You just feel misunderstood and invalidated. Either way I end up feeling a failure and a burden… like I’m wasting their time. I’m not even in hell anymore. I’m below that. I can fully understand why my friend made the choice she did four months ago, if this is the sort of thing she felt.

I have nothing and nobody to lift me out of this. There is no joy in life. No hope. Nothing. I really want to fall asleep and not wake up. I can’t exist in my head anymore. I’ve had enough.

And that’s without the political situation unfolding in this country now too. I don’t exist to anyone in my life… I’m invisible…. and now Parliament want to treat me as though I’m invisible too…. just overturn my vote, deny me an election and rob me of the one achievement in recent times – winning that referendum. I won’t say much on politics now, but it just destroys me that MPs are treating me just the same as everyone else. Like I don’t matter. I actually tweeted to the Prime Minister the other day, admitting that Remainer MPs are making me even more suicidal than usual. I’m usually quite restrained on Twitter, but that’s going now. I’m beyond the end of my tether. And the political situation is worsening my mental health at a dangerous time…. they’ve created an environment too toxic for people like me to live in… another reason to opt out of life. I just feel the odds are stacked against me, to survive. And I’ve lost the will to care.

 

 

 

100% Done.

*Self-harm reference*

 

 

I’m 100% withdrawing from everyone now. The last few days have been tough. I’ve posted things then deleted them as I remember nobody cares. I don’t exist. Wednesday was a bad one. I posted a video about how alone and suicidal I felt. I got a message in response. It was actually a good message, but my mind being scarred by traumatic experiences with others, felt threatened by it. I felt guilty for sharing it. I thought I had yet again upset and offended people. I was so ashamed of myself. I felt like the past with my best friend was repeating. Every minute detail was replaying and I seriously couldn’t cope with it.

I felt so horrible about myself that night that I got my self-harm kit and tipped it onto the bed, ready to punish myself. Luckily I was tired and put my head down on a pillow for a moment, to think, and woke up a while later. So falling asleep saved me from harming myself.

I now know the past wasn’t repeating itself. I wasn’t under threat. Everything’s ‘okay’. Only it’s not. I’m filled with self-loathing. I’m still alone. I’m still suicidal. And the anxiety I’m experiencing is affecting me physically. I can’t cope with friendships anymore. I so desperately don’t want to be alone, but I don’t want to take what shitty ‘friends’ did to me, out on innocent people.

I hate that I was ranting about nobody caring, when the reality is that they all have their own stuff to deal with. It makes me feel so selfish. I just find it upsetting because I was dealing with my own stuff, and missed that Liv needed me. So always hearing that everyone’s too caught up in their own stuff to deal with me, it’s hurtful, and I feel like screaming at them – that’s what happened with Liv. I just don’t think anybody understands exactly how lonely I am.

It’s also a fact that people I have on Facebook are not as close to me as I thought. I think in my mind I exaggerated their role in my life. Because I only allow people I like and trust on my profile… people I want to talk with, I place more value on them than they would with me. I’m a nobody to most of them. I’m an acquaintance at best. Many people have hundreds of online friends. So they won’t see my posts. They won’t notice my existence or if I didn’t exist anymore. I need to learn to not take it so personally. I just don’t mean as much to them as they did to me. I’m just not meant for ‘social’ media anymore.

It’s a difficult situation because I have lost the two best friends I had left. One abandoning me for being too mentally ill, and the other ending her own life. They both happened this year. Two friendships of over thirteen years… gone. I have nothing left now. I guess I hoped these less close friends might support me after I lost everything… but I can’t hold it against them that they haven’t. They have more important things and people in their lives than me. I have to just accept I’m alone now. Completely.

I have to continue grieving my granddad, without support – Liv was my support. I have to now grieve the loss of Liv, with nobody to help me do that or bring light back into my life. I have to grieve and cope with the loss of my best friend and my Godchildren. I lost them for reasons I do not understand. It’s unfair the way I have been treated. But I have to accept what’s happened, and that I am totally alone in all of this. It’s just the way it is. I used to be alone all the time. I didn’t have friends. The difference is I didn’t have so much pain to deal with back then. I was young. I had my mental illness, but I didn’t have the life experiences I have now. That’s why I’m so desperate to not be left all alone again. Because I’m not sure I can survive so much traumatic stuff, by myself, unsupported.

But no matter how loud I scream for help….. no matter what I say, how much I beg, I will never get true care out of anyone in my life right now. If they honestly cared they’d have said something to me by now. They wouldn’t have left me in silence, suffering, wanting to end it all. I’d get more than apologies and excuses…. I’d get care, love, support and all other things friends are about. I’d get it without having to ask for it. The second I have to explain what I need from friends, is the second I realise they’re not my friends. Friends know what to do. If I have to ask for it then I won’t believe it when it happens – the words will be insincere.

The thing that upsets me the most is seeing other people reach out at crisis point and getting supported. Being noticed. People caring. But me? Nope. I’m invisible. And the thing about feeling invisible is that it makes me feel extremely violent towards myself. Because it’s like I don’t exist. So if I don’t exist then surely it will cause no pain if I stick my fingers into my ribcage and tear my own heart out…. it won’t hurt if I scratch all my skin off and rip all my hair out. It won’t hurt it I smash my head through a brick wall. I want to violently throw myself around and cause myself so much pain and destruction, because I shouldn’t feel it….. I’m not real am I…? I’m a ghost. And if I actually screamed, nobody would hear me. So I feel very close to making quite a spectacle of myself sometimes, from the frustration of not existing to others, and being in such intense pain through it all.

I know I don’t matter to anyone. I’m understanding now that I’m not as close to people as I thought. But I still don’t understand how anyone could keep quiet when someone is visibly not okay. Even whilst being in the worst state ever, I try to reach out to people who need support. I’m getting a bit of a complex now though. Because anytime I do that, it’s either dismissed or completely ignored, as though I said nothing. Even people disappearing… going offline, leaving me thinking it’s something I said…. not only do I feel invisible, like I never said anything, but I feel that it’s not appreciated, and actually not wanted. It’s a rejection. And it hurts to be honest. I don’t have a problem with anyone at the moment. But I am finding myself in the situation I was in last year with my paranoia and anxiety, and I can’t take it anymore… not at the moment.

So I need to distance myself from everyone. Don’t reach out for help. Don’t reach out and help others, because I’ll be rejected. Basically I don’t want to do anything where I could get rejected anymore. I’m not going to. Let’s put it that way. I have to protect myself. It means being alone. But I am alone anyway!

No more ‘attention-seeking’ online, fishing for care. No more chit-chat. No more advice / care from me. I’m sorry that means not being there for others… but I feel it’s not appreciated anyway – people tend to have lots of others offering them support anyway, not like me. So hopefully everyone will be okay without me.

My paranoia makes me feel physically sick. I’m aware that people on my profile do not deserve to be casualties of my mental illness. I’m not sure that I can recover from this illness now. I feel that this paranoia can never go away. I will never trust anyone. I will never like myself again. I will never believe that anybody truly cares. I will always feel people are out to get me and hurt me. I can’t see a way past that now.

It’s like my former best friend probably thought she could push me to the back of the shelf and bring me out again later, when she’s less stressed and I’m ‘better’. But this is flawed thinking, because how anyone can expect someone to recover when they’ve just lost everything and everyone, in very traumatic and violent ways… and to have to do that recovery whilst totally isolated – it’s insane. It’s never going to happen. How could she ever think I’d get better without her friendship? Yeah I ‘took a step back’ – or at least was going to, that was because she refused to make up her mind whether I was worth anything to her or not. It was to try and help my paranoia and preserve our friendship, but she didn’t give a fuck about that. She blocked me without a word. As you would expect, this increased my paranoia – as I didn’t understand such passive-aggressive behaviour… I didn’t know her motives. I assumed she never wanted to hear from me again. I still assume this. Everything surrounding the loss of her makes me feel sick. In fact life just makes me feel sick right now.

If by some miracle I recover from this intensely dark period of illness, I won’t want her back in my life – she walked away when I needed a friend the most. She left me with none. She saw the worst of me and turned away. I can’t just forget that. Likewise, how am I meant to forget the pain of nobody being there for me? How do you recover from a breakdown like this? How do I learn get over everything that has happened? Some would say you don’t ‘get over it’ you ‘learn to live with it’. But how can I possibly learn to live with everything the last year has shown me? How do I live without Liv? How do I live without my best friend and Godchildren? How can I ever be okay with myself when everyone abandoned me in the depths of my illness? How can I ever trust anyone to care about me enough to not leave me? I’ve seen a different world – one that isn’t safe. I can’t un-see that.

I feel so scarred by everything, I feel I can’t forgive anyone for their contributions to my state of mind right now. I feel upset and angry at a lot of people, and then guilty for feeling that way. That’s why I have to distance myself now. They don’t deserve it, and I’m not getting what I need from them anyway. So what’s the point if there’s only bitterness and resentment? Everything feels toxic now. Plus I’m analysing everything people say and don’t say…. nothing they do is good enough – that’s because the damage done is too massive…. I don’t believe it can be fixed. I don’t know what it would take to fix it all. To fix me. I feel I’m beyond help now. Yes I’m angry that people let me get to this point without intervening. They only had eighteen months to do so….. I was begging for the them to help me as I was going down a one-way track to hell. They all sat back and watched me drown. Now there’s no way back. It feels too late. I feel lost, powerless, hopeless.

I feel I will not recover. It feels like a fact. This is my life now. But there’s no sense bringing everyone else down with me. So I’m done with them all, as I’m done with myself. It’s better this way. For everyone. There was never any hope anyway… that they could save me…. not really. I’ll fade away quietly. Hopefully this way the rejection will stop. There’s nothing worse than silence, to a heart in pain and a mind in despair…

It’s just me now. Me and my blog.

 

 

 

 

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…?