Long Time, No See…

Hey! It’s been well over two years since I posted on this blog…. to begin with I’d actually started a new blog, as I wanted a clean slate. I didn’t like the direction my blog had taken – ranting about this and that. I wanted to start again more positively. It’s been a tough couple of years though, and I lost confidence in my blogging voice.

So the other blog never really took off. I stopped writing. I’ve decided to return to this one, as it was already established. I can’t change what’s been and gone. This blog was negative at times and was my space to vent. Had I not done that, I may not be here now. It’s better I come back here and explain who I am and why I am the way I am. A lot has changed in the last couple of years. Yes, I will still be talking about the things that cause me difficulties. I will possibly still rant. I’m really hoping I can get back into poetry, as that’s dried up for a couple of years too. I need to start trying to open up again and reach out to others in my position.

It’s a very distressing time for me at the moment. I might expand on that sometime soon. I just wanted to pop my head in and say hey. Not sure how many of you are still around from before – if you’re still here, then great! I’ll be sharing more updates on stuff and hopefully writing some useful bits and bobs too. For now, take care xx

The Unfairness Of Life.

*Swearing near the end*

 

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

 

 

I’m Sorry.

*Strong suicide theme – don’t read if feeling unsafe yourself, please*

 

I keep hearing Liv say to keep writing, and that my blog was good for her as my friend, to help understand how I’m feeling. That I should use it however I want to… it’s my space etc. – but I’m seeing other bloggers and I’m thinking how positively they write. I feel ashamed of my blog. I feel it’s so negative. I wish so much I could be positive and helpful to others.

I’m just struggling so much with life myself. And the reality is I have absolutely nobody I can talk to about that. So I write on my blog. I know those in my life won’t read it. The only one who ever did was Liv. She said she always read my posts. I miss her so much right now. Again, I have nobody to talk to about that. My doctor is the only person I can be honest with about everything, and I can only see her once a month.

I just feel the walls closing in around me at the moment. Even having told the doctor things nobody else knows about how dark things are for me, they’ve only become much darker since my last appointment a week ago. I’m scared where this is going to end. I’ve never felt more alone or scared in my whole life. Everything is a complete mess. There is nothing good left in life. There is no ‘life’. It’s just pain and grief… so much loss…. and just pure despair.

The only people I want and need to talk to, are the same people who are either gone from this world or abandoned me for being ill. My heart is so broken by it all. I wish it would stop beating. The only people who even notice my existence are my closest family. To be born into a world where only they would notice me not being here, is to never have really existed. It’s such a waste. To have made no difference to anyone’s life…. not a positive one anyway. I hate myself so much. I hate other people. I hate everyone who just threw me away like I was nothing. How can I ever recover from what they all did to me?

When Liv took her life, it was too much to bear. I got in touch with my former best friend who abandoned me, as I just couldn’t take having lost them both. It made no difference. I even got told by her husband it doesn’t mean things going back to normal….. just like she had painfully said to me that nothing would ever be the same now. I don’t understand why not – all I did was be mentally unwell last year…. how does that warrant treating me differently from now on? It’s not my fault. Why am I being blamed and persecuted for being unwell?? It doesn’t matter how much pain I’m in, how ill I am or if I didn’t even exist anymore. She’s decided I’m the villain in all of this and I deserve to be punished by her withholding friendship from me. She’s killed me.

And Liv’s gone. Nothing can change that. Nothing can make that alright. I have to carry that with me forever. I feel angry, because things were hard enough for me without this. But then I’m also angry that even with this added to the mix, nobody cares, not even my former best friend. Nobody can see how close to the edge I am… it’s almost as if they don’t want to acknowledge that suicide can get passed down the chain. Even people without mental illness can feel suicidal after losing someone to it. I was suicidal before losing her. Enough things had broken me and made me want to give on living. But I’ve talked about my suicidal feelings too much and done nothing about it, so people don’t believe me anymore. That’s why I’m not talking to people anymore. What’s the point? Nobody takes me seriously anymore. Nobody understands or cares. I know the occasional person on my blog might, and I’m so grateful to those people for noticing me. But I need people in my life to see me and save me. I’ve given up on it though. They’d have to read my blog to hear anything more from me. Any they don’t care enough to do that. And if they did then they don’t care enough to reach out to me and ask if I’m okay. If my former friend didn’t want me to end my life then she should’ve thought about that before abandoning me at a time like this.

I feel so alone. So lost. So entirely destroyed. I can’t be fixed anymore. I mean it. Nothing can make this okay ever again. I feel sick all the time, and numb from the pain. Not numb enough. Things were extremely dark before Liv died but I could still imagine light at the end of the tunnel one day…. the tiniest bit of light. Even if I couldn’t see how to reach it.  But now…… I’m sealed in a dark tomb. I can’t get out. I see nothing. I’m struggling to breathe under the weight of darkness and nothingness and utter pain, and nobody will reach out a hand and help me out. Nobody will show me the way towards the light again. I wouldn’t believe it existed or that I could ever find it again, even if they did, but nobody’s even tried. They’re all just leaving me to rot in that tomb, all alone. I just want the darkness to kill me now. I’m as good as dead and buried already and everyone treats me as though I’m a ghost. So why can’t it all just end? I’ve had enough.

 

And that’s what I mean about feeling ashamed of this blog. Because instead of breaking stigma, helping others and showing my journey to recovery, I’m basically documenting my downfall into nothingness. I’m laying bare my breakdown. And what’s killing me right now is that Liv isn’t here to guide me. I just need her so much right now, and she’s not here and never will be again. And I don’t even have anyone else to fill that void. I have nothing and nobody. It hurts too much. She’s the only person I need to talk to right now. I don’t know what to do.

I’m sorry. I’ll stop writing here. I can’t see anymore, having cried writing the whole damn thing. I don’t know the purpose of this. I just had to let a little of my pain out somehow. And no, I don’t feel better for it. But I’ll do what I can to solve that for tonight. Don’t want anyone to worry about me imminently… not that I believe they would. I’m sorry, I hope I haven’t triggered anyone. I was going to switch to a new blog – a positive one.  A fresh start. But I can’t be positive at the moment. Maybe I should truly suffer in silence… total silence… I don’t want to upset others with my feelings.

Hope everyone’s okay. Keep safe. I’ll try my best to as well. It’s just becoming harder every day to do, especially feeling so alone.

xxxx

 

 

 

Am I Broken?

I had a serious meltdown on Monday night and as a result made my blog private, and decided not to blog anymore. I was severely hurt. I have since decided not to let anyone shut down my voice. Yes I may change my manner of blogging if possible, but I’m only speaking my truth. Mental illness has become my life this year, not by choice. It’s been a battle to survive. My blog is my way of explaining my thought processes and the challenges I face with this illness. Nothing is ever done maliciously. I simply say things as I see them, from the perspective of having a mental illness and experiencing a mental breakdown. You see the world completely differently during a breakdown. I think you’d all acknowledge that. I report on what I’m experiencing and what my perception of reality is – not to hurt anyone, but rather to explain why I act the way I do… to explain that I’m paranoid and believing things that may not be true. If people take offence at that then it shows a lack of interest in even trying to understand my illness and how I feel. The aim has always been to explain so as not to be misunderstood, and so that people know why I’m behaving how I am, and at times this has failed epically and left me even more misunderstood. But this is a failing on the part of those who refuse to try and understand. I’ve tried to make people understand, if they still can’t then unfortunately it’s not my problem.

 

I have decided to continue my blog, as those with a mental illness know where I’m coming from and what I’m saying – and that after all is the whole purpose of this blog. That and challenging stigma – and what I have faced recently is stigma in my opinion.

 

Before the thing that caused my breakdown on Monday night I had been at the theatre at a comedy show…. I had intended to write about it when I got home, as it was the most peculiar experience I’ve had lately, but I got distracted by even worse things…

 

But anyway, I was anxious about going to this show, as I hardly go out anymore –  especially to anything big like that. I went with a family member. I had already felt reluctant about going, as I’ve had such a horrible year and my mental health is that bad that I felt I wouldn’t enjoy it. To some degree I was right…

 

It was hard to understand what he was saying, as he speaks so fast, with an accent too… so I missed a fair few bits. I also have a back problem, so found it difficult to sit for a long time. By the break I was desperate to stand up…. so the second half was particularly painful, I still couldn’t always hear him… and then he brought up Brexit. He lost me after that. I don’t find it amusing to laugh at and attack something I voted for which politicians are on the cusp of betraying. I don’t like lefty luvvies making fun of my vote for entertainment purposes or their own virtue-signalling purposes. So, I kind of switched off at that point, and no matter how hard I tried after that to reconnect, I couldn’t find anything he said funny enough to laugh at it.

 

I became very aware that I was sat in a room full of hundreds of people laughing their heads off, and I felt very disconnected from it all. It’s like I was there but not a part of it. I kept trying to get myself to focus on the show and the jokes, but my mind had already wandered off. And my illness had taken over.

 

I felt like I was broken. Faulty. Damaged. I started thinking all these things I’ve planned for next year – if I’m this ill I’m not going to enjoy them. I don’t feel able to enjoy anything anymore. Even when I went and saw the fireworks at the start of the month, I felt detached. Walking to see them, alongside everyone else making their way there, I thought ‘It can’t be fireworks again already… it doesn’t feel like that time of year’. Probably because I have hidden away for most of the year so missed a lot of the seasons…. I can’t believe it’s Christmas again in a month… the second one without my granddad. I don’t feel in that sort of spirit because of my mental health, the problems I’m having and because the year has just disappeared. I’m going to try and make the best of Christmas, in that I want it to be a peaceful Christmas.

 

But I feel so disconnected from life that even fun events feel like ‘going through the motions’ and pretending. I don’t get the same joy from them at the moment. So I went away from it having not enjoyed it, not finding it that funny, and feeling very pensive. I thought there was only one thing that could finish off the day in style – a horrible message from someone…. sure as hell that’s what I got when I got home 11.30pm. Then the proverbial hit the fan and I ended up on the phone to the Samaritans at 1am.

 

I won’t say any more about that in this post. This is more about that feeling of being disconnected from the world around you – it’s something I’ve felt all year to some degree. It has only got worse over time. My family are real. But any interactions outside of that don’t feel real. Anything that happens around me is as though it’s happening whilst I’m in an invisible bubble, just watching. I even hear myself saying words and sometimes don’t feel I’m in control of saying them.

 

I don’t laugh at things the same. At home I might, but not elsewhere. I feel I can’t let go of everything that’s happened in the last couple of years…. I can’t just let go and have fun anymore. I’ve spent most days suicidal. It’s hard to truly experience the feelings of happiness and enjoyment when you’re still in that state of mind. Will I ever find things funny again? Will I ever be able to genuinely smile and enjoy being around people again? Will I ever live one day like a normal person and not secretly be wanting to end my own life? It doesn’t feel like it.

 

Monday evening was when I realised how broken and ill I am. I was later attacked by someone who refuses to understand that illness. So I have to put myself first, understand my own illness and not beat myself up for having it.  I don’t know how to connect with the world around me anymore… I’m not sure the way out of that. My first priority has to be to try and get the help I need – the understanding, support and validation. I’m not an expert in breakdowns and how to recover from them. So I have to be patient with myself and as people would say to me, take it a day at a time. I only hope people can show more compassion and understanding than I received the other night, whilst I live in this hell. It’s scary to not feel part of life, to be in so much pain and not want to exist anymore. To not feel in control of your own mind and body sometimes. It’s embarrassing to have people witness your mental breakdown, fearing they will judge you for it and leave you. Trying to rebuild your life whilst wanting to die is so hard. And I’m grateful to those who understand and who have stuck by my side and not held my illness against me.

 

I shall continue writing, as a step on my long journey to hopefully getting well again one day. If my truth offends people then I’m sorry. But I’m only sharing my relatively new experience of paranoia and trauma, and living with this illness is more painful for me than sharing my truth could ever be for you.

 

 

xxxx

 

 

Apology.

From now on I will not be posting about my feelings. I have a couple of posts in the making… one about something traumatic last year. One about fat shaming. Other than that I’ll be keeping to myself from now on. Can’t cope with this right now. Knew whatever I did would be wrong. I’m sorry.

Is My Blog Doing ‘More Harm Than Good’?

 

I always wanted this blog to be a ray of hope for people with mental illness. I wanted it to speak to those who feel they’re alone with their illness. My main topic was BPD along with self-harm, and I wanted this to be a resource for those who don’t know much about BPD. I wanted to dispel some of the myths. I wanted to educate. I wanted it to be informative and hopeful for those in the process of learning about their illness.

 

I find myself at a point where I’m questioning if my blog is fulfilling its purpose. I’m sure every blogger is plagued by doubts at some point…. they think ‘Is there any point to this blog?’ … ‘Is it helping anyone, or just making them feel worse?’ … ‘Does anyone read it?’ … ‘How does it compare with others?’ … and many other questions. But I really have started to wonder whether my blog itself is doing ‘more harm than good’.

 

I’ve always been told this is my space, and I should share my feelings and be myself. It’s just not what this blog was set up for. When I first started it was explaining BPD, challenging the myths, describing the snowball effect, ‘episodes’, splitting, transference etc… but lately it’s become a venting space.

 

This is because unfortunately life has taken a downwards turn. Add to that the fact I’ve had no support, other than closest family. So I’ve had nobody to talk things through with. My blog has become a sort of ‘online journal’. It’s become a personal rant and place to explore my thoughts and feelings. Surely nobody cares about those…

 

It’s become my way of expressing myself and communicating that I’m not okay. It doesn’t help OTHER PEOPLE. Also a lot of my posts recently have been rather negative, and I don’t feel this will help others to feel positive or hopeful. I know some would say it’s ‘showing the reality of mental illness’… yes, I agree it does. But my blog has become a documentation of the deterioration of my mental health. I want to be a story of success and hope, like others. I want to be uplifting and tell others ‘Look, if I can beat this, so can you!’…

 

My experience of mental illness has been that people will talk to you, interact with you and include you, as long as you’re ‘getting better’. As soon as they see someone breaking down and getting worse, they distance themselves. They abandon you. They avoid talking to you. This is something I’ve witnessed among friends and acquaintances. Whilst I was being positive and talking of ‘kicking mental illness’ arse’, they’re there cheering you on… as soon as you say life sucks, things are getting worse, you don’t want to live anymore… they disappear. They’re silent. You’re alone. This is something I’m going to write about separately soon. But the fact I’ve experienced this in my own life, makes me concerned my blog is going off the rails.

 

• Do people only support you as a blogger if you’re ‘on the up’?
• Does the fall into negativity and despair send your readers running in the other direction?
• Have you ever found your blog going in a different direction than originally intended?
• And when reading mental health blogs, are you after information, are you after a hopeful recovery story, or are you after the raw, often painful reality of mental illness, that you can either learn from or identify with…? 

 

Feel free to chip in with your answers to any of those questions. I’m having an existential crisis with this blog at the moment! Not sure which direction to go in right now. I know there are things I want to write about – sometimes they’re overridden by personal rants, depending on what life throws at me. As much as this is my space, I want it to be useful to other people too and certainly don’t want to make people feel worse…. I’ll have to have a think about the future of this blog.

 

Do you have any thoughts? Let me know…