Trigger Upon Trigger.

*Self-harm / suicide references and a lot of bad language – sorry to offend…. personal rant*

 

18th February 2020

 

I’m sorry to vent here, but it’s the only option I have…. I need to make sense of everything in my head. Today was a total headf**k if you’ll excuse me. How do I even put into words the mess I’m living right now??

 

For the last two and a half weeks I’ve been permanently triggered and in a state of extreme anxiety and paranoia. I have had to deal with this on my own. It was caused by somebody at the Wellbeing Centre. I had to wait all this time, until today, to talk about it and resolve how I feel. I went to my group. I had written something about my encounter with the person who triggered me (Z), how it made me feel… why I feel let down again and won’t be opening up anymore. I stated what it was I needed and why. It was not intended to start / continue a conversation. It was to end all conversations. It was just to let them know they f***ed up just like the previous MH service did with me.

 

I didn’t want to just hand over the bit of paper and run out, like the first time I tried to tackle my problem there. I had things I needed to add, to explain what was what, what I wanted and didn’t want, how I didn’t blame those running the group etc., that I don’t want to hear from Z again and had blocked emails from her, that I didn’t want my decision to be taken away from me to continue there…. I wanted to feel that the people running the group know my reality from now on, because nobody will see my reality if I carry on going. I will put on a front. I wanted to wear that mask today, but unfortunately before it started I was further triggered, by the people taking the group. And I couldn’t really control my emotions terribly well. Saying that, I did manage not to bawl my eyes out on the bus.

 

I have been in a constant state of anxiety for the last fortnight… going over and over what I needed to say to them before giving the bit of paper for them to read. I obsessed over it, because I was worried I’d miss something important out. I wanted to feel that sense of relief to have been heard and understood. The day FINALLY came when I could deal with this and put all that anxiety and the bad feelings behind me. I hoped so much that I would feel better after today. But no….

 

Being anxious and also afraid of my request being rejected, I wrote down ‘Sorry to do this… I have a lot of anxiety atm & actually feel scared and ashamed to ask this – but I have something important I need to deal with quite urgently, so could I please borrow the two of you at the end?’ and passed it to them. You can guess where this is going. They said no, basically. They said they’re in trouble for being late to the next group, but I could talk to someone else if I wanted to. Fair enough, but when you consider what I wrote it’s irrelevant. I wrote about my trust being damaged now. That I don’t want to talk to anyone else now. And I felt I wasn’t allowed to talk to them anymore. I talked of being a burden. I talked about closing down now. All I needed was a couple of minutes to just have one final conversation, to get some f***ing relief from this intense sickening anxiety I’ve felt … to feel I’d been listened to … to feel I wasn’t as worthless as Z made me feel. But now X (the person I have feelings for) has made me feel just as worthless, if not more…. because funnily enough he’s probably my FP (Favourite Person) at the moment, and his opinions matter. He affects me emotionally. So being rejected by him today has totally destroyed me. I already felt like a burden to him. I felt so ashamed to ask to talk to him this once more. I feared it. Because I feared more rejection and denial of what I needed, like Z had done. He wasn’t prepared to give me any time. I wanted to die. I still want to die. I have literally just screamed into a pillow and begged a higher power to just kill me. I can’t feel like this any longer.

 

And now having just broken down writing this, I’ve just phoned the Samaritans too. Not the best call I’ve experienced… lots of pauses that made me think they weren’t listening or caring, but never mind. Just one of those days I guess. At least I got some of my feelings out.  Got a sore throat now from that screaming before.

 

I had to phone the Samaritans. There was nothing else I could do. I was doing very bad things to myself, I wanted worse, and I’ve already had diazepam today, and last night, for the anxiety, so that won’t help. I ran out of options. Just have to hope it won’t feel this bad tomorrow. It’s pretty awful tonight. As people are saying I just have to wait and see what comes of what I wrote…. it’s the waiting that’s the problem though. I’ve waited two and a half weeks for relief…. I don’t want to feel this way a minute more. But there’s nothing I can do about it really.

 

Today triggered me, because it completely replicated the very thing I wanted to talk to them about. I asked to have my needs met, and it was denied. I felt like a burden. I felt alone. I felt like I was told to go away and deal with it on my own. I feared rejection in both cases and got it. Every tiny detail from the IAPT service I used a couple of years ago, is being played out at the Centre. And every single bad thing I imagine happening is happening…. so it makes me think I’m right that I will eventually end my own life. Because for the last couple of years my nightmares have all been coming true. It’s almost like premonitions. It’s quite scary.

 

The trouble I’m having is I’m now splitting on my FP – X. I’m angry with him. I’m hurt by him. I don’t want to feel this way towards him. But I do. And he and his colleague were the only two I trusted…. and Z made me feel I can’t talk to them anymore, and they’ve confirmed that by their actions today. I understand they got in trouble for some reason (which I’m now also blaming myself for, for taking their time before)… they don’t want to get in trouble. They’ve obviously been instructed by someone to not allow time to talk at the end if necessary – which is a damn shame, because that is what the IAPT service did too, and it was detrimental to my wellbeing, which I shared with X & co. once before. I do get that they have to do as they’re told. But even the Samaritans woman thought they should’ve helped me if I was asking for it.

 

Reality is I was not going to take much of their time, because I was already PAINFULLY aware of what a nuisance I’ve been. This was the very last time I would have spoken to them. I was denied that. Now I’ll never speak to them again, and I never got that final chance to. I’ve been denied a ‘goodbye’ or closure in a sense. The very problem I wrote about. They have seriously f***ed up. And I bet their response will be ‘Do you think maybe you should stop coming here?’ – as if I’M the problem and the answer is to run away. I bet they won’t stop and think they’re the problem here and can do better for me. I bet they won’t take responsibility for f***ing up. They’ll do what everyone else does and take the easy option of kicking me out and not having to deal with me anymore. I bet. Just wait and see. They do that and I’ll know they’re not listening to me. I’ve not felt this shit in a long time.

 

And all it would have taken to prevent this would have been five minutes of being heard. I hope they’ll reflect on this and realise that although they’ve been told off for being late, in this one situation they should’ve reacted differently. Now they know what the issue was, I hope they feel guilty. Because they have made me feel, like Z did, that their jobs are more important than service-users’ recovery and lives. X has managed to make me feel I don’t matter at all. What happens to me is irrelevant. What matters is having half an hour free so as not to be late for the next group. These people don’t want to bend the rules even a little bit to help someone in dire need. They had no f***ing clue the state I was in and what I’ve been through in the last couple of weeks. All they had to do was care and listen for a few minutes and I wouldn’t have reached this point right now. The point where I just want to be dead. Because nothing else will help this pain.

 

Both of them denied me the thing that would have given me ‘closure’ and made me finally STFU and leave them all alone. Z could’ve given me the reassurances I asked for in my email and I would’ve been spending the last two weeks healing. Instead all my wounds were violently ripped open, to the point I wrote about it, so that I could feel heard. I never got to have the closure and the chance for healing that I needed…. the next best thing would’ve been to feel heard and understood by X. He denied me that chance. They have both f***ed up big time. And copied each other too. I’m just so done with f***ing MH services and their lack of care for the wellbeing of service-users…. or me anyway. It feels like it’s personal.

 

All of this crap makes me wish I’d never said a damn thing to them about what I was struggling with. But I foolishly trusted them to not repeat the same mistakes as the IAPT service. But they have. And it feels a thousand times worse this time. So at the moment I HATE them, more than I ever hated the other service. And this includes the person I have feelings for. So.….

 

I’m just so tired of existing right now. It’s too painful. There is no relief from it. No comfort. No support. No light at the end of the tunnel. I know people care, but the person I want to care doesn’t…. that’s become clear today. And unless he does care, I don’t anymore. Nothing / nobody else matters. That’s what I mean when I say emotionally he is the key. All I needed was to believe for a second that I was worth something to him. That I wasn’t as worthless and irrelevant as I felt. All he had to do was lie. I wish these people would understand how little was actually needed to unlock my whole damn recovery and fix this f***ing mess. I wasn’t asking for much at all. But seems it was still too much. Which makes me feel worthless. I don’t deserve even the bare minimum. That’s how it feels. And the trouble is if they don’t do that little thing that was needed to help me, it creates a bigger problem that requires a bigger solution, which they will NOT give me. It’s the story of my f***ing life. I’m just not worth the effort.

 

…

 

19th February 2020

 

Made it through the night. Was an uncomfortable night because of what I did to myself, and kept waking up every hour or so, wondering what time it was. When I finally woke up I went straight into thinking mode, as I have done for the last couple of weeks…. my mind doesn’t have an off switch. The only time it’s off is when I’m asleep now. You know what sort of day you’re going to have when the first thing you do in the morning is cry, because of the day before.

 

I texted X to explain how yesterday triggered me further. I probably shouldn’t have. But sod it… I think I’m past that point of caring now:

 

“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.”

 

I don’t expect I’ll get a response. And if I do it’ll probably only trigger me further. I’m just so pissed off because this could all have been avoided had Z listened to what I needed, or if X had given me just five minutes yesterday… that’s all. SO pissed off that all of this could’ve been avoided so simply. It feels like they’re deliberately trying to frustrate me to get me to leave. Even hearing about X’s holiday with his partner was upsetting yesterday – I thought Z said she’d mention to him about not sharing things about his personal life, as it upset me the last time…. guess she didn’t do that. Or if she DID do it then he clearly doesn’t care about hurting me, and is doing it to trigger me and make me leave. They’ll get their wish soon I’m sure. But to be honest if I leave I die. So if they’re trying to force me out then they’re saying they’d rather see me dead than help me.

 

I had wanted a resolution to this whole issue before the three week break. I didn’t get it. I wanted a resolution yesterday. I didn’t get it. There can be no resolution now. These people who are meant to be there to help me have massively triggered me… how can they ever help bring me out of that state of high negative emotions? I can’t see how they can help. X could’ve helped. But since he’s made it worse, and he was the emotional key. There’s nobody else who can help. I don’t know what to do. This isn’t fair.

 

I was so vacant during the group yesterday. And then afterwards I wandered around town in a daze. I was just standing and not knowing what I was doing. At one point I was stood between my two ‘suicide options’… trying to choose which one to do. Thankfully I did neither, and got myself on a bus instead. I figured it was better I went home and hurt myself if necessary, rather than end my life. I really wasn’t safe. I thought of every possible means to exit this world yesterday. I seriously entertained the idea of something I normally wouldn’t. How can it be okay that those I trust to keep me safe and help me, left me feeling that hopeless and alone? Why don’t they care about what they’re doing to me? They’re the ones who need to fix this. It has to be fixed and turned around. The answer can’t be to give up…. If they give up, I give up.

 

(To be continued…)

 

Stop Seeking Reassurance.

*Self-harm and a lot of swearing near the end – sorry*

 

I don’t know where to start…. I don’t know how to put into words how messed up this week has been. I was originally going to write about ‘transference’, or basically having feelings for a MH professional…. I was going to write about the pain of that experience….. and then by Wednesday / Thursday I felt positive and was going to share that with you all… but now I’m completely broken, triggered and absolutely hate everyone at the Wellbeing Centre. I don’t want to go back there. I’ve been left triggered and in deep water with a weight around my ankle, left to drown for at least two weeks – and even if I then return, I can’t talk to anyone about any of this. They’ve messed up badly, repeated what the IAPT service did two years ago, so now I’m closing down…. I’ll resent MH services…. I won’t open up about anything…. I won’t engage positively with them as I had intended to in a couple of weeks…. it’ll all be for nothing. All they had to do was listen to me… to see that I recognised what would help me… if they could’ve done as I’d asked, I could’ve used the next couple of weeks positively and returned full of beans, focused on recovery and feeling happy and safe there. If they’d done what I suggested it would not only have solved the issue I’m currently having, but it would have healed the wounds of the past – the trauma caused by the IAPT service. But they chose to deepen the wound and further destroy my trust in MH services. I’m done.

 

Okay… I’ll try and start at the beginning of this week. I’ll try and be brief. I went to my group earlier in the week. I decided to say to X that I might not be coming back to the group, so wanted to thank him for all he was doing. I wanted to build him up and let him know he was doing a good job. I was dreading the three week break from the group. I said three weeks is a long time in my world, and anything could happen in that time. Part of me felt I might not survive the three weeks. Part of me felt it all depended on my discussion with Z the next day. I didn’t know what would come out of that discussion, and I might decide it best to not return. So I chose to ‘say my goodbye’ to X just in case.

 

Unfortunately during the group, before I had that chat with him at the end, there was mention of his partner…. I already knew he was off-limits. I knew about professional boundaries. I knew he could never be mine. I had actually begun to accept this and was trying to turn my romantic feelings towards him, into just being appreciative of him as a person. But hearing he has a girlfriend was the most sickening stab to the heart. And I had to sit there as if it didn’t affect me at all. When it came to the end and he said I’d wanted to have a quick chat with him, I felt like saying ‘no, actually it doesn’t matter’. It wasn’t like I was having the chat to try and seduce him or something… but the pain of discovering his relationship status just threw me, and I didn’t feel as appreciative of him all of a sudden. I also felt it really did mean goodbye. But I did talk to him for a couple of very awkward minutes. The things I wanted to say didn’t come out as smoothly as I’d intended. It was very forced. And I regretted it. But he seemed grateful for the positive feedback and hoped to see me come back to the group after the break. I said I’d see.

 

Wednesday I went to see someone at a different Wellbeing Centre, we’ll call her Z. This was to talk about the feelings I had, and the connection to my experience at the IAPT service. I won’t go into all the detail, but I discussed it at length with her – for almost two hours! She had said some helpful things…. She had said my feelings weren’t wrong to have. She just kept reinforcing the idea of the ‘boundaries’ and that it’s serious stuff, as ‘people can lose their jobs’ (which made me feel crap to be honest, as I already knew all that, and it seemed she cared more about their jobs than my distress). She said that MH professionals do care about their clients. They may not love them in that sense, but they think of them and want the best for them etc. She said he probably felt good that someone feels good things towards him. She said they agreed that I was brave / strong to share the truth with them. She said he wouldn’t judge me. She said he might feel hurt if I just stopped going to the group. She said all sorts of things…. I found it helpful at the time. It was overloading though…

 

So I went to the cathedral afterwards, lit a couple of candles for lost loved ones, and then sat in the Epiphany Chapel to quietly reflect. I’m not actually religious myself, but I asked for my heart and mind to be healed. I asked for the strength to get through this. I asked for help.

 

The next day I woke up and had a whole new outlook on the situation. I wanted to get the most out of the experience. I wanted to be positive, grateful and learn everything I could from X before I lose him. That way he’ll have made a difference in my life. That way there will be more to his presence in my life than the pain of losing him.

 

I had realised what would help me in order to move on and heal. Although she had said what he probably thought / felt, it wasn’t enough to convince me. They were only assumptions. I can’t be expected to base my beliefs on assumptions. The IAPT service never allowed me closure. I thought this place might be different. So I emailed Z and suggested that if I share a list of statements that would help me heal, could she share it with X and see if he’d agree with those statements, and then report back if he did. It was a pragmatic approach to the problem, that meant I didn’t have to speak to X again myself. And that I respected the boundaries, and would use her as a go-between.

 

The list included:

• Although he may not care about me, the way I care about him or wish he could care about me, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about me on some level – in a human way. Care doesn’t mean ‘feelings’. Care is care.
• Even if I feel a level of rejection from the whole situation, I’m not being rejected as a person. I’m still accepted and liked as a person and will be treated the same as usual.
• Even if I’m not valued personally by him, I’m still valued as a person.
• Maybe he does worry about me and wants the best for me – for me to stop hurting myself and to treat myself with more love and care than I do.
• Maybe he respects me and is proud of me for carrying on and trying to overcome this and everything else.
• He might even feel sad if I gave up and stopped coming to the group, because he wants to help people and wants to see me recover too. He doesn’t want me to give up.
• Maybe he appreciates the honesty, and appreciates being appreciated.
• He’s not disgusted with me.
• He doesn’t pity me.
• He doesn’t feel threatened by me or the feelings I have.
• He recognises I’m trying my best.
• Though a time will come where I will lose him and never see him again, he’ll know he made a difference in my life. And even if it’s only in the tiniest way I’ll have played a small part in his journey too, so I won’t be completely forgotten when it comes to an end.
• Even if I don’t matter to him like he does to me it doesn’t mean I’m ‘nothing’… (my friend who died last year, her partner got a tattoo with her initials and date of birth/death on his arm, with a quote saying “Every contact leaves a trace”… it feels like it’s all coming together and it’s a sign that even though I may lose people from my life, it doesn’t mean I never existed in their world. We all make a little difference to each others’ lives… feels like a message from beyond, that I can use now to deal with this situation).

 

These aren’t things that I DO believe. They are things that if I heard that he agreed with, would’ve allowed me to sit in a room with him again, comfortable that I’m cared for, appreciated, and that I matter, even if I’m still a ‘nobody’ in his world. I would’ve felt safe, supported and at peace, as I said to Z.

 

She didn’t respond, and I was concerned I might’ve gone into her spam folder, so I texted X to ask – and he also didn’t respond. He’s now off for two weeks. And she’s now off too. But she did reply to me last night….

 

Her response was that she saw X briefly and he assured her I’m a valued member of the group, he doesn’t feel anything negative towards me. She said as with all service users he wants me to succeed with my recovery and do well. So she successfully made me feel like a number. Like a nothing. A nobody. That was all she said on the matter. So after opening up and completely baring my soul and vulnerabilities to her, that was the extent of reassurance I got on everything. She clearly didn’t share my email with him or the sentiments in it. And then she said “I hope you can accept this and successfully manage your feelings without needing further reassurance” – WTF?!?

 

No, I cannot accept this and manage my feelings without further reassurance. I’m sorry that my need for reassurance is pissing you off and being a burden to you, but I actually fucking need it. So the moral of the story for me now is don’t seek reassurance from any of them. I feel I’m not allowed to speak to X anymore about any of this. I can’t seek his reassurance. She sure as hell isn’t going to reassure me, not anymore. She fucked that up. I don’t even want to hear from her ever again.

 

I’m now left feeling too demanding. But I knew in my heart what I needed to be able to move on. If I had properly been given that, then I could’ve used the next two weeks to get to a better place in my head, and everything would be fine when I go back. I’d never have needed to mention it again. Now I have two weeks of hating the guts of that place… I am splitting on them – and not just on Z, but on X too. It’s upsetting. I feel like they’re in it together, and he doesn’t want anything to do with me either. So I’m back to where I was on Tuesday – me, being in so much pain, whilst he’s out there with the woman in his life, happy as Larry, unaware of what Z has just done to me and my prospects of recovery.

 

When / if I go back, it will be more of the same I’m afraid. Any healing I could’ve done in this time off has gone down the toilet with that dismissive email. I now feel I’m on my own with it. I don’t want to talk to Z again. I feel I’m not allowed to talk to X anymore. Face to face Z had said I didn’t need to discuss this with X or his colleague again. I’ve been silenced. I sure as hell won’t bother opening up to anyone else at the Wellbeing Centre. So that’s it. It’s done. I either don’t go back and just live with the scars. Or I go back and don’t fully engage, because they fucked up. I’m trapped whatever happens.

 

If only Z could’ve accepted that I knew my own mind best, and what would help me. So often these bloody MH ‘experts’ ask their clients what help they need / want… I never know the answer – I always think ‘you’re the expert, you tell me!’ – but on this one occasion I knew it would’ve allowed me to accept that it could never be, but it would’ve probably healed the wounds that made me have the feelings for him in the first place. If I could’ve known he was proud of me, cared for me, appreciated me, and that I might’ve made a slight difference in his life (not personally, but just in some way that I wouldn’t be totally erased when it comes to losing him) – that would’ve made my time there and the impending loss a little easier. But fuck that. They don’t want what’s best for me. They want ‘boundaries’. They want to cover their own arses, no matter the cost to someone in distress. They want the power of being the professionals and knowing what’s best for me.

 

 

 

They’ve solidified the feeling of shame that came with being attracted to X. And Z has made me feel I can’t even talk to X anymore. So there’s even more shame. It feels like she’s holding me away from him, and denying me any sentiment that could help me. She is the obstacle to my healing. This is exactly why I didn’t want to see a fucking woman about this issue. Same happened at IAPT. So she’s triggered all that shit off too. I said I didn’t want to see a woman. That was for a reason. I was right. They didn’t listen. And she didn’t listen when I said what I needed. They don’t want to help me.

 

I now know my feelings ARE wrong. My NEEDS are wrong. They don’t deserve to be met. I therefore am nothing. I’m a statistic to them. So I might just turn up in a couple of weeks, as a statistic…. give my statistical feedback on mind-numbingly inane things that I’m not really struggling with… just to make them all comfortable with the situation… I’ll make up some things I’ve done well in this two week period. I’ll think of a minor struggle I can talk about…. I’ll lock my reality up inside my head and heart again, as though I never said anything – you know, I really wish I hadn’t said anything. Then I’d just have my feelings to deal with. Now I have my feelings, plus the trauma of IAPT opened up, and my trust in MH services completely yanked out of my system… and the negative feelings about them and about me, that this experience has left me with. I have to stuff ALL of that down inside me now, rather than just my stupid fucking feelings for a guy I can’t be with.

 

I never want to talk to Z again. Ever. Not allowed to talk to X. Now I’ve been burnt I won’t talk to anyone else. This is it. They blew the one fucking chance they had to help me. Just like the IAPT people did. Even back then I knew what I needed and they denied me it. The upset I felt at that – because I knew if they’d just listened to me and done what I knew my soul needed to heal, they could’ve stopped this situation ever happening again….. well now the Wellbeing Centre are just the same. They missed the chance. It’s too late to fix it. I don’t trust them anymore. They could’ve helped me change and heal. Now I will shove everything down and this will happen again in the future – only, I will probably never ask for help from MH services ever again as a result. I cannot afford to feel this way ever again in my life. I couldn’t afford to feel this way now. I was afraid to feel this way again. Now I do, I know I’ll never survive it happening again. Right now I’m not sure I’ll survive this.

 

Right now I’m angry. I may be crying, but I’m angry. When that anger dies down and the depression side kicks in, I’m screwed. I can survive with anger. I can’t survive the darkness and the hopelessness.

 

I feel very let down. This last week has been the worst, most intense rollercoaster, and I’ve ended up lower than I started. All it took were three / four days, to feel hope and to have it extinguished by the same person. I’m just done with recovery right now.

 

Yeah, honestly if I believed X wouldn’t want me to hurt myself, then it could’ve helped with my self-harm. As it is, I’m obviously just a number to him, so what I do doesn’t matter does it. Plus the way they’ve made me feel has only increased my urge to hurt myself. So fuck it. I won’t stop. I would’ve stopped for him. But as I’m that irrelevant, they won’t care if I don’t. I don’t exactly have any other way to cope with the shit they’ve left me in right now.

 

They might interpret it as ‘going to the group is making me worse’ – wrong. The way they’ve handled the situation is making me worse. Going to the group is fine. Feeling banned from talking to X makes me feel worse. Feeling watched makes me feel worse. Being told to stop seeking reassurance is making me feel worse. Being made to feel like a number, when I wanted to believe I mattered, is making me worse. That woman – Z is what is making me worse. But I bet they stop me going to the group, because they think that’s what is making me worse. Seeing X and everyone else has been the only thing keeping me alive this year. If they take that away from me I have nothing, and I’ll go. They’ll kill me. I just wish they could’ve handled it differently. I wish I never spoke to Z. I want to forget I ever did. I want to forget all of this. But it’s too late. It’s spiralled out of control, and now I resent them. If I resent them I can never make progress with them.

 

Maybe this will feel better when I’m not splitting on them like this. I’m aware that’s what’s happening. It doesn’t stop it happening though. I cannot see the good in them at all right now. I don’t even want to go to my course next week, which involves neither X nor Z, as I hate all of them in response to Z. But never mind. It is what it is. I have no choice but to tolerate all the negative thoughts and emotions that will be my existence this fortnight. My only hope might be the Samaritans again…. but given how I’m feeling about having opened up and had the response I’ve had, I’m reluctant to do it again, with anyone. Besides, I can’t talk… I feel too upset.

 

Time to hide it though, and pretend everything’s okay. Don’t want those around me to know about any of this. It will only add to the shame I already felt, and had confirmed by my encounter with Z. Silence is the way forward. This will be the only place I break that silence. Thank you to my followers who don’t judge me, and just allow me to air my feelings without making me feel shame. I appreciate you guys xxxx

Rants On Reality.

*This is venting so very strong language and self-harm / suicide references*

 

Time to be honest, I’m not okay. Yes I’m taking little steps. Yes I have some wonderful things to look forward to next year. And to many people I’d probably seem like I’m doing better than I was two or three weeks ago. But inside is chaos and sometimes I just want it to stop.

 

I need help… the help I’ve been denied by mental health services. I need someone to tell me what the fuck is wrong with me. I thought I knew, but now it feels there’s so many layers to it that I don’t know how to do life now. I feel like my mind is going… my concentration and memory are rubbish. My stress level is constantly high, so the slightest thing is too overwhelming for me. Whenever I go out I feel exhausted and ill afterwards. It’s like my brain is so full of noise and traffic, that being around other people and having to pretend to be well, is too much and will make me snap. I’m worried about going back to my voluntary work. I tried taking steps towards that this week, but already I’m panicking about it. I know that having to work with the public is not something I can do right now. It’s too overwhelming.

 

Also being around people is too dangerous… people only have to say something wrong, even in a banter kind of way, and it’s like I’ve just been emotionally stabbed. People would have to walk on eggshells around me, or I’d have to constantly be hurt by those around me.

 

I’m not okay with friends. I’m trying to block out how I feel about it all, so I don’t feel the full effect of it again. I’ve been trying to stay in touch casually with people, but still feel so detached. The nagging feeling like none of them really care is always there, contributing to the chaos in my head. Pressure to talk to people too…. I have times I can talk to them, and others like right now where I don’t even keep up to speed on what’s going on for them. I can’t open up. There are people I’m supposed to have got back to… I haven’t. I feel really guilty about it but at the same time I still can’t do it. I’m having a problem with words right now. I feel emotionally imprisoned.  I feel if I start talking to people a whole world of emotions and thoughts will tumble out. So I’d rather live in denial of other people. I feel bad for it.

 

I keep trying to write my feelings out about losing my best friend. I can’t do it. I don’t even know how I feel anymore. I’m pissed with her. I’ve been hurt by her. I hate her. I miss her. I feel calmer and more resigned to a life without her. I feel misunderstood. I feel guilty. I feel bitter that I feel guilty. I feel scared…. scared to ever try and sort things out with her. So I don’t. I won’t. Part of me feels it’s her fault so she should  approach me and apologise for abandoning me because of my mental illness. Part of me realises she probably thinks I’m the one in the wrong and abandoned HER… because she doesn’t understand mental illness or how her last message came across to me. She made me feel like a burden and like she needed space. So I’ve given her that. I’ve had a life of feeling like a burden and a worthless piece of shit, which she knows about, so she shouldn’t expect me to go crawling to her begging for her friendship. Won’t happen. She did me wrong. Who abandons someone at their lowest ebb?? But then a part of me thinks she didn’t deserve to have me ruining her happy life with my misery, so she was within her rights to walk away.  But that feeds the low self-worth monster. I can’t work out if I want to be nice to her or tell her how much she’s hurt me. So I say nothing and can’t complete any bit of writing I do about it.

 

I always stop and pull my hair out instead. That became a problem again. Just like the self-harm… particularly punching. I really want to self-harm so much but often can’t muster up the energy to do anything like that. I feel numb yet like I’m drowning in emotions at the same time…. like there’s so many feelings going on inside me, that they’ve filled my airways and they’re pinning me down and stopping me from acting or speaking. So nobody knows how I’m really feeling. It’s like someone having their voice stripped away, having their heart dug out of their chest and screaming in agony but nobody can hear them…. or even more than that, being paralysed and being tortured but showing no signs of the hell you’re going through on the inside.

 

Paranoia. Nobody can know what it’s like to be mistrusting of people’s intentions, even your own family members. My best friend didn’t understand that a lot of the changes she saw in me this year were as a result of paranoia, and probably took it personally. But do you know what it’s like to be scared of your own loved ones, for no reason? To feel they’re going to hurt you in some way….. with no evidence that it’s true…. just your own mind convincing you of it. It’s scary. I spent a long time when I was younger, not wanting to be around the males in my family as I had convinced myself that I’d repressed something and that they weren’t safe to be around. I know this is not true, and when I’m in a healthier state of mind I never even think it, but it comes from a place of not trusting anyone – I’ve always been particularly mistrusting of men because of some of the jerks who have hurt me over the years. But it also comes from feeling disconnected from reality. I don’t know what’s real sometimes. I have dreams where I get really angry with people I love. I wake myself up shouting and swearing things like ‘I’ll fucking kill you for that!!’ …. sometimes kicking my legs in the air or punching the pillow next to me. In the last few days I keep having dreams where I’m desperately trying to punch a wall and injure myself, but it’s like I’m doing it under water, so can’t hurt myself as much as I want. It’s frustrating.

 

Times like right now I want to scream my way into a new reality where none of the last six years happened. Life doesn’t feel real. Not the life outside of my house. Even going on the bus the other day, people didn’t seem real…. or they seemed TOO real…. like they’re on another plane of existence from me. Like I am floating around in a bubble of invisibility while they live life…. that’s how I’ve felt all this year. It’s unsettling.

 

My mind keeps jumping to different thoughts. I’m thinking about the fact I cannot remember growing up. I remember tiny snapshots of experiences. I remember when I had a nosebleed at primary school and the dinner-lady pinched my nose so hard it hurt. I remember when someone stole my favourite teddy ‘Freddy Teddy’ from school when we had to take a bear in… not sure I ever got over that! I remember a few of us (we were the good kids) running back to our classes at the end of the day after a music group, as we didn’t want to be late, and a teacher came out and shouted at us really loud for running through the playground past all the parents, and how humiliating it was. I remember standing alone at lunchtimes by the wall, watching everyone else have fun. I remember begging to tag along with other people so I wasn’t alone. I remember being bullied. I remember being teased so much about my hairy arms that I started shaving them. I remember the amplifier not being switched on for a jazz band performance and the teacher embarrassing me while I was on stage. I remember being stalked by someone I befriended when he was new to the school, and how nobody wanted to be around me if he was there. I remember a boy in my tutor group putting his thumb through my clay work I did in art – he was later expelled for other reasons. I remember a girl telling me a group turned down having me in their limo for the prom because I’m ‘boring’. I remember a teacher giving me a dressing down for reporting her to my parents instead of talking to her myself. I remember a teacher grabbing me by the wrist and shouting at me, calling me a ‘stupid girl’ for accidentally picking up a hot tray and burning myself. I remember when my cat died. I remember having a car accident on our way on holiday – don’t recall the details now. I remember when I started self-harming. I remember being ‘abducted’ by a bus driver playing a joke on me one evening when I was alone. I remember the look on someone’s face when I made a mistake at a voluntary job, and me going to my bag and self-harming in the room I was working in. I remember cutting myself under the table in psychology, for doing badly on a test. I remember sneaking scissors into the pocket of my jeans at college and going off in the break in biology to harm myself, for not knowing the answer to a question, despite knowing the answers to everyone else’s questions. I remember flipping out on the biology trip because the people I was working with wouldn’t let me do the job I was meant to do, so I said ‘YOU DO IT ALL THEN!’ and I remember how they looked at me, and I remember wanting to walk out into the sea and drown. I remember …..

 

I’ll be honest. At this point I have a mental block. Everything I just wrote came pouring out in an endless stream of memories…. flashbacks. And at this point I re-joined reality and a part of my brain has yelled ‘STOP!’ as it’s too much… too many bad memories…. the point is the parts I can remember about my childhood and my teenage years are generally bad little snippets – the bits I’d rather forget. And all the good stuff that I wish I could remember I just don’t. I look at photos of me and I don’t remember that person… I don’t remember those times, how I felt or even doing the things we did. It’s like it was a different person.

 

There HAS to be something wrong with my mind…. be it trauma/stress related, amnesia, BPD-related or degeneration of my brain. A part of me is worried I’ve inherited Parkinson’s. I know that’s rubbish, but what if it’s true? What if my brain is dying? Will I ever get my good memories back? I don’t even remember my childhood – growing up with my parents or spending time with my grandparents when I was younger…. which is very upsetting when I’m grieving for my granddad. I have very few real memories to hold on to. Only the knowledge that I loved him, and he cared about and worried about me. The main memories I have of him were after he got ill and as he passed away. Nobody can understand how hard it is – they say to hold on to the good memories, but I cannot remember them now. For whatever reason. I’ve been robbed of my past.

 

On top of that I keep getting really vivid images in my head… like when I’m walking down the stairs – I was carrying a little kitchen knife down the stairs earlier and I had an image of me falling down the stairs and falling onto the knife…. and it plays out in my mind’s eye… graphically… to the extent I can imagine it stabbing me, as well as the pain of just falling down the stairs. Sometimes in the car (as a passenger) I imagine a car coming down the road on the wrong side and us having a head-on crash…. or on the motorway I have visions of a pile-up just ahead of us, and it makes me really anxious. I sometimes imagine situations where people upset me or humiliate me and what my response would be – and it’s like my body reacts as though it’s happening and I feel the emotions it would stir up…… these images happen so quickly and without actual intent to think about them. They’re usually very brief but very detailed and sickeningly graphic. I don’t feel in control of my own mind anymore. What’s wrong with me?

 

I feel so trapped and lost because nobody will help me. Did CMHT reject my referral because they think I have BPD, therefore they’re discriminating against me?? That’s not fair on me to not even be able to see someone to be told what’s wrong with me and what I can do about it. They should at least signpost you to people who can help you… and no, not the IAPT service…. they don’t want to know either.

 

There seems to be this atmosphere of ‘You have to help yourself’ around mental health services nowadays. Whilst I acknowledge that is true, some people need help to be able to help themselves. I will be blogging about this separately, but being told by mental health professionals, ‘You’ve done DBT in the past, just look at your folder and use your skills’ is fucking stupid and neglectful! Don’t you think if it was that easy I wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place?! I need human interaction, support and someone who can offer me hope…. I need someone to figure out everything that’s wrong for me, and once that’s established to perhaps review my medication situation…. not to just tell my doctor that ‘medication won’t help in the long-term’….. okay Sherlock….. so what will?? Because you sure don’t seem to want to help either? So what’s your magical solution for me?? The thing that sickens me is that they would’ve all sat around discussing me and they either thought ‘Oh no, not her again….’ or they simply based the decision on my past…. how the fuck is that meant to help??? I’m not the same as I was in the past. I cut my arms so badly that I bruise my tendons for over a month…… I punch walls so much I have deformed my knuckles……. I pull my hair out so much I leave bald spots….. I feel suicidal most days…… I have no support network anymore…… I have faced so much loss since before…… everything is different but these morons want to base it on the fact that they once offered me the most intensive help they could … there’s nothing more they can do for me… wash their hands of me. Fuck them. And fuck the whole fucking world at this point.  So let’s say I received no support for twenty years, then had a serious relapse…. would CMHT turn me down saying I did DBT once twenty years ago…. ‘that should be more than enough – help yourself’. Warning guys, it seems once you do DBT you’ve signed a contract saying you’ll never seek mental health support again. That’s what it feels like. It’s like they got me to do it, and secretly it meant they could then wash their hands of me. Then once I was discharged there’d be no way back in….. oh, unless I had a serious problem within six months, therefore they’d fast-track me back in………. sorry that I managed to go several years without crawling back to you fuckers. Believe it or not I actually liked not having to report to someone every week or two. I liked the freedom from mental health services. I’m not choosing it as a hobby. I chose it as a fucking lifeline. It took me months to finally decide to be referred. I’ve been through hell this year. And then this.

 

To not even assess me….. you know what, if they were to change their minds now I’m not sure I could attend, as I feel like an utter fucking burden to the services now…. just what someone like me doesn’t need. I feel like a burden to IAPT, a burden to CMHT, a burden to my best friend. ARE YOU ALL TRYING TO FUCKING KILL ME???! All these people who should be there to support you in your hour of need and I’m treated like I’m nothing. Like if I did kill myself what would it even matter? Mental health services should be there to make people feel better, but my experience has been the opposite. At my most fragile times I’ve been made to feel like shit for not being well again. DO YOU THINK I WANT TO BE ILL AGAIN??? This is the most detached from reality I’ve felt in my life. I’m scared. Scared of the world, scared of people and scared of myself. And each rejection and abandonment deepens the wound and makes it that much harder to repair me. Why couldn’t anyone help before I reached utter despair?

 

I’m upset now, so better stop writing. Sorry if there’s typos etc. – was just ranting, can’t be bothered to check right now.

 

 

Rejected By The World.

*A lot of bad language, sorry… and also self-harm / suicide*

 

I’m finding it hard to put things into words at the moment. There’s so much chaos in my head and I feel so hopeless, that I can’t really see the point in writing anymore. It’s impacting on my ability to finish anything I start. So this might be a bit of a ramble… it’s me trying to make sense of the noise in my head.

 

So last year I had my first loss. Grief has impacted on my mental health, which was already precarious. Therapy with an IAPT service last year worsened my mental illness. My self-harm increased. I struggled through an experience without proper support and due to my attachment issues with one of the facilitators of the group, I had to experience another loss… one that I’m still not really over. I’ve gone downhill from there. I’ve spent the majority of this year struggling to keep living. I’ve experienced intense paranoia and splitting on friends… thinking nobody cared, everyone hated me, they’d abandoned me and didn’t care if I died. I pushed myself through those feelings and have made progress in talking to some people. I still don’t fully trust that my thoughts are false. But I’m trying.

 

But from it all, the one person I’ve lost is my best friend. Even if it’s temporary and can be fixed, at this point in time I don’t have my best and only real friend. I’ve been abandoned at my worst time. She can’t cope with me when I’m this ill, or so it seems. Which is fair enough… I can’t cope with me, so can’t blame her. But it hurts. I’m really upset about it, but just like with my grief for my granddad, I don’t want to open up the wound and experience the full force of emotions. So I’ve adopted a ‘couldn’t care less’ attitude… as though ‘it is what it is…’, and I’ve just had to get on with it. I’m hurt and upset and a little angry, but I can’t seem to write it out. I feel swamped by emotions, and devoid of them at the same time. It’s like I’m overloaded and have shut down. Not to say I don’t have emotions – I’ve cried two days in a row now, after a long period of not crying. It’s like I have the emotions but don’t always know what they are or what to do with them. If I let myself feel everything I feel, it would probably kill me. So it’s better to deny some of the feelings.

 

Another thing is politics. I am so disheartened by the Brexit betrayal. We’ve fought bloody hard to get to this point and put up with so much shit from the opposition… so much bullying – to the extent that we have to keep our opinions to ourselves, or face being attacked, leading people like me to self-harm. We won the vote. It was meant to be implemented. This government, the EU and every Remoaner in the country are doing the best they can to fuck it all up, and to keep us tied to the EU, either by overturning the result with another referendum, or by opting for a ‘soft Brexit’ which is not Brexit at all – it’s remaining in every way but name.

 

I don’t care what side of the argument you’re on. If you democratically won a vote and were promised it would be implemented, and then had virtually everyone working against that … and succeeding – how the fuck would you feel??? What annoys me is that a lot of Remainers will be joyous about cocking up Brexit. They will celebrate overturning the result and getting their way, totally oblivious to what they’re celebrating – the overruling of the people… the destruction of democracy. It should worry everyone, whether they voted Leave or Remain. So I hope when Remainers ultimately ‘win’ they show a bit of restraint and resist taunting us, as what is happening right now is a kick in the teeth for democracy.

 

I hate that all my life I’ve felt irrelevant. I’ve felt neglected. I’ve felt invisible and like my voice doesn’t matter. And now with this Brexit stuff, it feels like my voice is being silenced again. I placed my vote, the same as everyone else – our side were the majority. Majority wins. The only people standing up for our side are now labelled as ‘rebels’ or ‘Brextremists’. They are doing their job and representing those who put them in power. The rest of the them are telling the Prime Minister to ignore the small amount of people in her party, who are a ‘small cabal of hard Brexiteers’… but most people who voted to leave are ‘hard’ Brexiteers. Leave or Remain. Those were the two options – there was no mention of a ‘deal’. There was LEAVE. As in get out and cut ties with the EU. A half-in half-out deal was never an option on the ballot paper. It wasn’t Remain or half-Remain. It was Leave. So why the fuck are we not leaving properly??

 

There is NOTHING I as a voter can do… other than vote the Tories out at the next election in a few years, which at this rate I will take great joy in doing, even as a lifelong Conservative. I am ashamed of this country. I am sick of Remoaners. I am disenchanted and feel hopeless. What more can I do? The opposite side of the debate like to take to the streets and chant about how much they hate Brexit. That’s not in my nature. It’s not in the nature of our side unfortunately. And it still wouldn’t do a thing anyway. The only people who can sort this out are the politicians… and they don’t seem to want to listen to us or respect the referendum result – no matter what they say… what they’re pushing for does not respect it in the slightest – ask those of us who voted for Brexit.

 

And having my voice ignored… being made invisible again. And then the bullying that will endure once the Remoaners get their way…. I couldn’t cope with that. I’m frustrated. I’m angry – I have so much rage inside of me because of this. I want to punch walls every day because of how powerless I feel about this betrayal. It’s difficult.

 

And then today I went to the doctors. I said I hadn’t heard from CMHT about my referral. The doctor told me that they had rejected the referral. So the mental health team do not want to help me. They don’t care if I live or die.

 

The fucked up part of it is that they haven’t even met with me to assess me. They based that decision on my history – my past notes… the fact I did DBT before, which is their most intense thing they can offer. So there’s not much else they can do for me. Apparently they made mention of the fact I’d worked with IAPT too… I didn’t realise at the time, that if I worked with them that CMHT wouldn’t then help me, as they think I’ve had enough help already. Mental health services need to make it clearer what help is on offer and what the consequences are for those options. 

 

Without support from CMHT I can’t access the Recovery College. I can’t access a psychiatrist and finally get a fucking diagnosis. I know some people don’t agree with diagnosing people, but some of us need it. I needed to know what was wrong with me. I need validation. I needed to be able to explain to those in my life what is actually wrong with me. I can’t tell them ‘I have BPD’…. ‘I have C-PTSD’… because I’m not diagnosed with either. I knew this would happen. I’ve written about it before, that without a diagnosis CMHT probably won’t support me… but unless they do, I can’t GET the diagnosis to get the help. They’ve screwed me royally.

 

I can’t have my medication looked at… apparently in their response they said something about ‘medication won’t help in the long-term’….. okay… so what WILL? As YOU clearly don’t want to help me! And why won’t medication help? Is there something I don’t know?? Are you telling me I DO have BPD therefore medication won’t help?? Are you therefore discriminating against me based on a diagnosis I have not been formally given?? I am fucking angry.

 

Other people seem able to get the help they need from CMHT – why not me?? I feel abandoned by the world right now. I feel like everyone just wants me to fucking end it.

 

I cried during my appointment with the doctor… so much I couldn’t breathe. How can they reject me without even seeing me? They shouldn’t base it on therapy I received 10 YEARS AGO. I am a different person now. So much has changed. My life has spectacularly fallen apart. I didn’t know DBT was a once only opportunity. That once you’ve done the course that’s it for life. DBT was the one thing that helped me to reduce my self-harm and better my life. And professionals now would say ‘Just look at your folder’… dodging responsibility for actually HELPING people. I’m not saying I needed to do DBT again. There may have been other therapies they could have offered or at least suggested – BASED ON A DIAGNOSIS. How can they reject the request for help when they don’t even know what it is that’s wrong with me, and what I’m asking for?? It’s not fucking on.

 

Am I just meant to die then? Is that what they want? I know they couldn’t wait to get rid of me last time I had their help. I knew I was a burden to them. They made that fairly obvious. I remember my CPN saying something about doing therapy to help you, not just because it’s something you’ve done all your adult life…. ! FFS. I’m really struggling with urges to hurt myself right now. My suicidal thoughts are most certainly back.

 

How am I meant to go on living this life, with no support? How am I meant to WANT to live if even mental health services don’t give a fuck whether I live or die? I don’t want to hear from anyone that ‘sadly it’s because they’re so underfunded and overloaded’… that shouldn’t be MY problem. That’s like one of the doctors at my surgery who is all about ‘cost’… and isn’t afraid to make patients aware of his concern about the money side of things…. I am ill. I shouldn’t have to worry about the professionals’ side of things. I shouldn’t be thinking about cost for them. I shouldn’t even be aware of it – I should expect support and help and not be made to feel bad for needing it. I shouldn’t have to feel like a burden to the services – but that’s all I’ve felt. It worsens people’s mental health to be made to feel a burden for seeking help  – it takes a fuck-load of courage and effort to reach out for support. And to have it denied… to face a huge rejection like that – WITHOUT EVEN TALKING TO ME…. it’s not on. They didn’t even write to me. They told my doctor  – I didn’t see her for three months. I’ve been waiting three months to be told no. MENTAL HEALTH SERVICES – FUCKING SORT YOURSELVES OUT!! THIS IS PEOPLE’S LIVES YOU’RE MESSING WITH! I am a human being, not a fucking statistic. But all I seem to be to these professionals is a fucking number, in a line in a factory, thrown away in the bin at the end. What’s one more person falling off a bridge? One less person to have to help, right? I want to fucking punch my computer screen. I want to cut my arm open.

 

How is this okay? Mental health services might feel powerless – but how the fuck do you think I feel? I’m a ‘patient’. I’m suffering already. I feel close to the edge. I want to fucking die, and you feel frustrated that you can’t offer more help to people – so bloody what?? At least you don’t want to fucking slit your wrists every day. At least you know hope. There is none for someone like me. And you don’t even want to help me find it… because ‘cost’… probably. If mental health services put a price on my life, then obviously it’s £0 … I’m not worth saving.

 

I had put all my ‘hope’ of survival, on the possibility of help from CMHT. It was my last chance. My last glimmer of hope that I could get better. It’s gone. There’s nothing now. Just blackness. In front of others I’ll try and force a smile and positivity. Inside I’m thinking… jump…blades…blood…death…darkness. But there’s no point sharing any of it anymore. It achieves nothing.

 

All these things above show me that my voice doesn’t matter. That sharing my feelings on things won’t help. With my friend, trying to explain my mental illness just made her abandon me. She couldn’t deal with me anymore. Politically, my voice is being shunned and the bullying side are going to win. And mental health services don’t even want to HEAR my voice before rejecting me.

 

I’m irrelevant. I’m worthless. I’ve been abandoned by everyone and everything – my best friend, the fucking government, and now the mental health services. What bloody hope is there in this world for a lost cause like me? I just want to give up so much right now. I’m so tired of life. I’m tired of pain. I’m tired of loss. I’m tired of being hurt, neglected, abandoned, rejected. I’m sick of existing. I want to not exist anymore. I don’t feel safe anymore. There’s no hope left. I’m trapped in this hell forever…

 

 

The List Of Chaos.

• I spend months talking about how I feel I don’t have any friends.
• I talk about feeling alone and like nobody cares.
• You asked me what was wrong, I said I felt invisible, like nobody cares, and I should just keep to myself.
• Your response was silence.
• You left me feeling invisible and like you didn’t care.
• You hardly speak to me anymore.
• You don’t tell me you miss me. You tell me the kids miss me.
• You don’t show that you care. You just say I am your friend.
• I tell you about my mental health, to try and explain my behaviour – you don’t want to hear me. You just get annoyed with me for not being the friend I used to be, and you’re frustrated that I behave how I do.
• You don’t seem to accept my mental illness.
• I write about my paranoia, BPD and self-fulfilling prophecies in relation to friendships.
• You message me saying you don’t know what’s going on but want to sort things out between us and talk of meeting.
• I am hypervigilant and paranoid however. I feel scared and under threat, so retreat.
• I feel ashamed and guilty for saying anything and burdening you, saying you don’t deserve having to put up with my illness.
• I pull away whilst I deal with a couple of things that were hard to cope with.
• I fight against my emotions, my paranoia and my illness, to contact you and suggest meeting to talk, so I can explain my illness. I admit I’m scared about it. I warn you things won’t be easy with me for a while as I’m ill, so if you don’t want to get involved you don’t have to. Last thing I want is to inflict my illness on you. I never expected you’d take this option.
• After a couple of days you contact me, don’t really acknowledge anything I said, and just tell me your side – you tell me what an awful time you’ve been having.
• You tell me you don’t know how to be my friend as you don’t think I want you as a friend. And you just wanted me to talk to you.
• You tell me things that make me feel guilty for having not been there for you – but how was I to know? I’m not a mind-reader, and I’m too ill to approach others and ask. Sorry I’m a rubbish friend. It’s mental illness – you may have understood if you’d listened to me.
• You say you need to focus on your own things.
• This makes me feel like something you can’t be dealing with right now. i.e. ‘a burden’.
• You then tell me you are my friend and you are here for me, despite giving the impression you cannot be here for me. Empty words.
• You showed no compassion for my ill health or suffering. And made no reference to meeting up anymore.
• I  show care that things have not been good for you.
• I assure you I wanted you as my friend, and thought the same about you.
• I repeat that I have a mental illness, one I was going to print stuff out about, to give you to understand better.
• I acknowledge that we obviously need space to focus on our own issues.
• I show concern for something that you mentioned, and wish the best for that situation.
• I close my account.

 

 

• I have no clue how you could think I didn’t want you as a friend.
• I had been calling out for you to be my friend for months.
• The post I wrote about paranoia was based on my illness, but on our friendship too.
• I wrote about feeling possessive and replaced.
• I feel replaced.
• I was replaced as ‘best friend’ when you got married. He became your best friend – as he should be. But to someone with BPD it is still a painful feeling of rejection.
• Wanted to explain this to you.
• Being the only single person left, I feel lonely and I feel less important to you, now you have a family.
• I now feel replaced by your other friend who you frequently post about – you have more in common, family and all… so I feel inferior. This comes from low self-worth / self-esteem.
• You may not like ‘possessiveness’ or ‘jealousy’ but it comes from valuing you, and feeling inferior and insecure. I would have hoped you would respect this and reassure me, rather than feed my insecurities further.
• I wish you could understand my FEELINGS instead of taking offence at my words.
• You seem to look and sound happier with these others friends who are married and have children. It kicks in the thought that you’d be better off without me dragging you down. Whether this offends  and upsets you or not, it’s how I feel. I feel inferior and like a burden to you.
• You have confirmed this by your message.
• You have confirmed my worst fears. That you don’t want to deal with me anymore.
• You want to focus on your personal life.
• I know this will be untrue. You will see the other friend, who isn’t a ‘drag’.
• She will become the new ‘best friend’. And that fear of being replaced will also come true.
• I just wanted you to understand where my fears come from…
• I wanted to explain ‘splitting’ to you as well. It is beyond my control. It is like watching back a movie of your relationship with someone, which has been edited and only shows you the negative times. You know that the positives exist, but they’re not connected to the movie you’re watching. It is not deliberate, and is not about you. It is a faulty thought pattern caused by my mental illness. It distresses me.
• I wanted to explain this to you. But you avoiding my illness, and rejecting meeting to learn about it, and responding how you did has made me split even further. It’s just added to the problem and made it harder to fix in the future.
• My paranoia at least is not paranoia now. It’s just true. But I do still have paranoia and I wanted you to understand how hard it is to cope with that, when you’ve never had support for it before. It doesn’t just go away.
• I wanted you to understand my fear of abandonment, and that when I shut down it is self-preservation mode. It is me trying to protect myself from losing you. I don’t chase people anymore. I withdraw.
• I wanted you to know it’s because you matter to me that I fear losing you.
• I sense the changes. I noticed the way you spoke to me changed. I was aware of the amount of time you’d not talk to me.
• I was paralysed by depression and paranoia, so I couldn’t take the initiative and speak to you, no matter how much you wish I could. I wanted you to learn why it’s impossible for me.
• I felt you had expectations of me that I could not fulfil because of my mental illness.
• I know you want me to be who I was before, but I’m sorry I can’t do that right now.
• I wish I could. I hate feeling suicidal every day.

 

 

 

• You wanted to meet to sort things. I was afraid and overwhelmed, so didn’t agree to at that time. Then when I said about doing it, you seemed to have given up on the idea. I just feel you don’t understand mental illness at all. I couldn’t talk to you. I was scared of you!
• It took so much strength and courage to agree to meet and talk. So it was a blow when you didn’t accept it.
• I don’t understand how you could think I don’t want you as a friend, when I have shown over and over how desperate I am for you to show me your friendship!
• You are a closed book, so I had no clue you felt this way, or had problems.
• I never hid how I felt. So you cannot say the same.
• I know you have your issues. I actually care about you and your family.
• I cannot help not being there for you. I beat myself up for it. Literally. My hand is bandaged from doing so!
• I understand you might feel the same, that you cannot be here for me.
• I understand you may have felt too much pressure to be here for me, but please understand that I am desperate. My life has spun out of control. You cannot expect out of me, what you would expect from any normal person, or even what you expected from me in the past. I’ve never been this ill. I don’t always know what I’m saying / doing… I’m just trying my best to survive. Being judged for the way I do this is not helpful.
• It could be you are struggling with mental ill-health too, and I’m sorry if that’s the case. But I don’t know about it. I cannot help you if I don’t know anything. You cannot expect me to just know these things.

 

 

• I was upset nobody was there for me on the first anniversary of Grampa dying.
• That is where my splitting and paranoia started. It felt the worst that you weren’t there. I thought you would understand and support me. But you then went two months without speaking to me, before writing a less than caring message.
• I am grieving. I went into the ‘depression’ stage of grief and haven’t come out of it. I thought you would be more understanding of what grief can do to a person.
• I’ve never grieved before, not like this, so I needed a steady friendship and security to feel safe in a world that suddenly feels unpredictable and scary.
• Grief and the longest and worst crisis I’ve ever experienced, mixed together, and having to deal with it all alone is hell, and I wish you understood that.
• I don’t have other friends like you do.
• I don’t have a partner like you do.
• I have a tiny little world.
• I haven’t seen anyone socially for four months, since the last time I saw you.
• I don’t have someone to confide in.
• I am alone now.
• I feel suicidal every day now.
• I feel you wouldn’t care if I followed through with it.
• I feel you don’t value my friendship or my life.
• I understand you have your own life. To be fair I haven’t exactly ripped you away from that life this year. On average I saw you less often than once a month.
• I know you have to focus on your family.
• But you make me feel like I’m too demanding for wanting a friend.
• You make me feel how Joe made me feel… like I’m too much. Too needy.
• You made me feel worthless.
• However unintended that may be, it’s how you’ve made me feel.
• What if I died tomorrow? Would you wish you’d cared more when it mattered? Or do I really not matter to you now?
• After your message I wanted to die. Or I wanted to put myself in hospital.
• I ‘just’ harmed myself instead.
• I couldn’t find my diazepam to calm me down. I panicked looking for it.
• I had to just get through it and keep myself safe.
• I’ve appeared strong and positive the last couple of days.
• Today was hard.
• I had so many thoughts and words in my head, which I tried to write out, and I just couldn’t do it.
• I eventually found this way of listing my thoughts clearly. It’s helping.

 

 

• You may feel like a victim to my mental illness and my behaviour.
• But you don’t communicate. You expect me to just know. And then seem to hold it against me for not knowing… making me out to be the bad guy – like I’m selfish.
  But you don’t take the time to understand my illness. If you did some research you might understand how I’m feeling right now. I’d do it for you if I found out you had an illness.
• I feel like a victim.
• I’m already a victim of my illness.
• I feel like a victim of isolation and loneliness.
• And now I feel like a victim by the cold abandonment over the weekend.
• I feel like you see me as the one in the wrong here. But I cannot see it that way. Because I know about my illness. I know my limitations. I know how desperately I cried out for help all year, to have it ignored. I know my symptoms. I know I say and do things that might not be the best idea – but if you understood the illness you would know it’s never about you. It’s about trying to rid myself of overwhelming emotional pain and suffering. I know I have paranoia. I know everything I’m going through. But I know nothing of what you’re going through. And you seem to expect me to. You then imply you can’t deal with me anymore, and need to focus on you – as though I’m asking too much of you… making me feel like shit… how is that fair??
• I am hurt.
• Maybe one day things will work out.
• But it needs to be acknowledged that you’ve hurt me.
• Perhaps I hurt you. But I’ve told you multiple times I am ill. And you don’t talk to me, so I never knowingly turn my back on you at your worst times. But you did.
• I will forgive, but I don’t think I can forget… again, a part of my illness.
• One of two things will happen… either I will get better, on my own, and we will rekindle our friendship, when I’m in a healthier, stronger place. You will want me back as a friend once I’m not this ill. Or we’ll never speak again. And you can tell me how much you care about me, at my funeral.
• All I wanted was for you to hear me, and understand I’m not being difficult or awkward – I am ill and you’re seeing my symptoms. I wanted you to treat me with the kindness needed to survive a mental illness that kills 10% of those who have it.
• I wanted you to care. To really care about me, and to show it.
• I’m sorry you couldn’t do that.
• Goodbye.

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.

Better Without Me.

One of the most distressing feelings I have with BPD is a feeling of paranoia and ‘possessiveness’ when it comes to friendships. I haven’t always had it. It seems to be when I’m under more stress, or my mental health is worse like it is now. If I hardly hear from a friend anymore, and I see evidence of them having fun with someone else, seemingly happier without me, I feel a pang of something… it’s not jealousy… it’s not even possessiveness as such. It’s more a kick to my self-esteem. It just starts me attacking myself.

I have no issue with friends of mine having other friends. Yes, perhaps I’m a little envious of them having other friends, when I don’t. I only had the one in the end. And of course it kicks in the loss of all the friends I did have before 2012 happened. But it’s not a problem.

The problem is I automatically go to ‘I’ve been replaced’. ‘That person is their new best friend’. ‘They’re happier without me’. They look it. They sound it. They have more in common now with the new person – I’m single, childless, depressed and suicidal. Why would anyone choose me as a friend? I feel I’m being ditched. This could be because of my mental illness, telling me this is the case. It could be because life has changed, and I used to see my friend once or twice a week, when our lives had more in common, and this year I’ve seen her seven times in nine months… twice in January, twice in February, once in March, twice in June…. with two lots of three months in between where I don’t even hear from her… maybe that paired with my mental illness makes me arrive at this point, of feeling it’s over. I’ve been replaced by someone better.

I know it might not be that I’m being replaced… she might just have several friends. But the reason it feels that way is because she sees other people, seems happier and more like her old self, she doesn’t see me, give me the care and understanding I need… and all of that mixed in with the paranoia and depression, and the state of my mental health right now, it tells me … that she’s better off without me. That if she’s friends with me anymore it’s purely out of pity or just because we’ve been friends a long time.

I feel us drifting apart, and nobody can understand what that does to someone with BPD and a fear of abandonment… to lose your rock. To see it happening gradually over time. It’s mental torture. In some ways it’s worse than a sudden abandonment. Believe me, I wish I could be one of those laid-back friends, who you don’t see for ages, but you don’t stress about it, you never doubt the friendship and you pick up where you left off. Perhaps in the past I could have done that. In fact I think I have. But so much has changed in a year or so. There’s so much I had to go through alone. So much that happened that I wanted to share with someone, and I have nobody to share it with. To ask what I’ve been up to since the last time we spoke or met… that’s three months… you’d need three days to hear the answer. I feel so disconnected… detached… and it’s nothing personal. I feel that way to everyone and everything. I feel like I’m a non-existence just floating around a world where everyone else lives. It’s not just about her. But it feels worse towards her, because I felt so close to her. It’s like it would feel if I felt disconnected from my family…. thankfully I’m not. They’re the only stable thing I have left, and they’re always there. But to have someone who felt like family drift away over time – yes, maybe because of circumstances beyond their control – but to have so much distance during a mental health crisis… for so long… that they feel like a stranger to you… it is hard to get your head around that. It’s not just your common ‘friends become strangers’ thing either. I’ve had that happen many times in my life, usually brutally. This is something else. This is ‘It FEELS like we’ve become strangers’ but I don’t just feel disconnected from her… but also from existence. Therefore it is hard to challenge my thoughts, because I’m disconnected from life. It’s like the thought is floating around in my head, and normally that would be fine, because I am grounded. But I feel like the thought is floating around in my head… and I’m floating around in existence. So nothing feels safe. Nothing can ground me and reassure me.

But more than this, if I expressed my feelings about this, I don’t believe I would be reassured. I believe having these sorts of paranoid thoughts about friendships will actually push people away. Like if I’m ‘possessive’ over my friend – or seem that way based on my mental illness and paranoia – it will make me a less desirable friend. It will make her more likely to replace me with the other one. I also wouldn’t believe it if I was told I’m also her friend. I’d feel it was pity. When I expressed pain at the distance between us before, I heard things that made me feel I’m ‘too much’. That she needed a break from me… time to focus on herself and other things. I respect this. Six months of this year I’ve respected this and kept to myself. Respecting it doesn’t mean I’m not hurt and won’t sometimes express that hurt. What am I supposed to do? Suffer in silence? I have nobody to talk to about anything.

I know I’m too much. I know people need time away from me. I know my mental illness is draining, and I have nothing good to offer anyone at the moment. I know that all I am is a burden. I know I bring the mood down – why do you think I keep to myself nowadays?? I know my inner turmoil when expressed, makes others feel like shit. I know people would be happier with me dead. Okay. I know that. I know I’m just one more problem that people don’t want to have to deal with. I don’t need reminding of it by people I care about. I’m too much. And I don’t matter to people.

All I’m saying is that I saw this coming. I always knew life would change and I’d lose relevance. But while my friend’s life has moved on, and she has other priorities now, I’m still traumatised and stuck in a time she’s left behind. It’s not her fault. But I wish people could understand this. While their lives have moved on, my life was destroyed in the process and I’m still living in that time. Losing a social life doesn’t exactly help me to move on and find my own happiness, and to evolve with them. So when I say I need my friends, it’s because I have nothing else. And when I feel like I don’t have friends it hurts … because I’m still stuck in 2012, and it’s like losing all my friends all over again. It’s magnifying the fact that I STILL have no friends… I’m STILL stuck here.. and everyone else is merrily moving along with their lives, forgetting me, and expecting me to save myself…. alone. 

I would have loved to share in everything with my friend. To have found someone for myself, and to have children at the same time as her, so our children could be friends, and I’d be part of the ‘club’, and everything would be happy and jolly and great… it KILLS me that that’s never going to happen. It KILLS me that I’m watching her go through all this, and I’m just a nobody… I have no children. I have no relationship. I know nothing of the world she lives in, and we both know it. I remember with another friend who used to rub it in my face, that I don’t know what it’s like to have XYZ like she had (like a house, partner, pets, job etc) – because of course I have and always have had NOTHING. So I don’t know the stresses of life for people who have it all do I….? So if I get upset about not seeing my friend, or not feeling like she cares, I know that the inner response at least, will be ‘You have no idea what it’s like trying to juggle all the things of an adult life – you live at home, don’t have a partner / children, a job etc.’… exactly. I don’t have any of that. And if you knew what it was like to not have any of that, and to lose all your friends as they move on with all of that, you’d never think something like that again. I actually feel like crying now, I’m that upset by it.

I don’t have the life I wish I did. It hasn’t turned out how I thought it might. It’s paralysing. It’s frustrating. It’s deeply upsetting. I know that people are busy. I know my friend is busy. I know she has a lot to think about.  But this year I feel like a burden. I feel she’s reached the point where something had to go… and it was me. Her boring old, whiny, depressed drag of a friend. And if she hadn’t already concluded that herself, then me expressing my feelings about it will have done it for her. That’s what I mean – it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, but one I couldn’t avoid. My BPD and fear of abandonment saw to that. 

I honestly believe she should dump me as a friend, and find her happiness again without me. I’ve been such a drag the last few years. She won’t know who I am now. I’m different. All the years she’s known me she’s never seen me as bad as I am now. I’ve had low points, and she’s stuck by me through all of them. But this is something else. This is the lowest point ever… mixed with grief, trauma, isolation, and all the worst parts of BPD coming out in me. That’s something I’ve not had before. The symptoms ripping through my life like they have been and still are. I have had the symptoms before, but never to this extreme. It’s not in my control. And I hate who I am. I would be hurt, but I wouldn’t blame her if she gave up on me. She should. I’m not a good friend to her anymore. In fact right now I’m doubting if I ever was a good friend to her.

I’ve become selfish. I’ve closed down from everyone – I find it hard to talk one-on-one with people anymore… I wouldn’t know how to talk with her. I’m struggling so much with not wanting to live, that it’s hard to think of the feelings of others. People might think me pulling away from them is because I don’t care about them. This isn’t true. I just don’t think they care about me, and it’s protecting me from that. But when they don’t try to pull me back, that tells me I was right, and I never mattered to them. Self-fulfilling prophecy. It’s one of the hardest aspects of this mental illness. The fear of abandonment makes you pull away, and you end up abandoned anyway. And logic would say just to not pull away, but that’s rational logic, in a sound mind. And that’s where we end up feeling so misunderstood. Because people think of us in terms of ordinary thinking / behaving people. So they don’t understand why we say and do the things we do. 

It’s exhausting having this illness, trying to stay alive and trying to battle crippling paranoid thoughts… this is the first time in my life I’ve experienced paranoia to this degree, and it’s hard to challenge anything as I feel so detached from reality. And the trouble is that people’s responses matter. If they’re upset by my paranoid thoughts, and respond to me in a short, sharp, defensive way, it won’t help ease the paranoia… it feeds it. That’s been my experience this year. It makes me detach from reality even more. It makes me think they’re mad with me… they’re getting fed up with me… I’m ‘too much’ again… they’ll leave me for sure now… So it’s become this thing lately that it’s better to keep to myself, because anything anyone says is highly likely to make it worse. Even if they’re trying to be helpful I’m hyper-sensitive at the moment, and see everything as a threat… an attack… a veiled abandonment.

It’s like in my mind at the moment, people can’t do anything right. My friend will have a very hard time reaching me now. I will analyse every word said, and every word NOT said. I will say I want to know she cares, and then not believe her when she says she does. I will hear reasons as excuses, because of past experiences with people she knows about. I will not trust in the long-term, as things have improved at times and then reverted back to this, and I’m sick of that rollercoaster. But mainly I just don’t know what to say to her anymore. And it’s not fair on her. It’s not fair that she would have to walk on eggshells. That I don’t trust her or believe in our friendship anymore. It’s not right for her to feel neglected by me. Or criticised by me because of my paranoia. It’s not fair on her to make bits of effort, like I’ve wished for, for so long, and to have those bits of effort rejected, because I can’t communicate anymore… because too much is going on inside me to be able to form words and converse with her. I know how unfair it all is on her. That’s why I know she’ll be better off without me. I don’t want to be the cause of unhappiness for her. I’d rather she was happy with her new friends, and her family and didn’t have to worry about me anymore. Yes it would break my heart, but I live with a permanent broken heart anyway, because I feel like a burden and I feel neglected. No point someone else being dragged down with me. 

Inside I feel flooded with devastating emotions and so much pain and distress… but outwardly it’s like I’ve turned to stone, and silence is my preferred response.  It’s not about ignoring people. It’s just not having the words. I’ve written blogs, I’ve made videos… I’ve said all the words I possibly could. All were ignored. I’ve lived my life quietly this year, without anyone to confide in. It’s hard to open up again. I don’t feel I want to. I don’t feel I can. I’ve accepted my fate, and that I’m alone and have to do things alone. I don’t know how you can ever let people back in once you’ve reached that point.

I have just reached the point where I have to live each day suffering. I have to take it a minute at a time, and those minutes are filled with paranoia, self-hatred, screaming emotions and suicidal thoughts. But I have to just tolerate every minute, and not beat myself up for feeling how I do. I have to accept that my thoughts may just be paranoia… that in this moment I cannot safely challenge those thoughts… I just have to hold on to the belief that one day my mental health might improve, and I’ll see the truth more clearly, but that right now this is me, and what I think and feel is my reality, even if others think it’s distorted. I have to just bear the pain and the sick feeling I get when thinking about everything, and just breathe. For so long now I’ve been screaming inside to ‘fix things’… to get rid of the horrible feelings, as I feel they’re going to lead to my suicide. But now I have to stop looking at the bigger picture of life, of friendships, of my mental illness, and take it a moment at a time and just survive the little moments. Hopefully recovery will happen in its own time. Hopefully resolution of friendships will occur on their own, either by people going above and beyond, or by walking away. I have to ignore the cries inside about losing people, and focus on not losing myself to this world. I really want to at the moment. Nobody in this world knows how much I want to not exist right now. Everything is too much. And paranoia is scary when you’ve never really experienced it before. I have to wait a month to see my doctor. It’s going to be a long month. I wonder if I’ll hear from CMHT by then or whether they’ve rejected me already. Life is so difficult right now. I’m trapped within myself, and that inner experience is hell. 

To Speak Or Not To Speak?

Saying something = offending / upsetting other people = abandonment = isolation.
Staying quiet = suffering = self-harm = worsening mental health = avoidance = isolation.

 

Saying something = being a bitch = people hate you.
Staying quiet = being a doormat = people like you.

 

Saying something = insight / knowledge / eloquence = doubts of honesty / severity = well enough.
Staying quiet = doesn’t know about illness = given insufficient help = failure = ‘too ill’.

 

Saying something = having a backbone = being ‘strong’ = not needing anyone = feeling misunderstood = being avoided by people.
Staying quiet = feelings are trampled on = being ‘weak’ = being needy = being too much for people = being avoided by people.

 

Saying something = ‘brave’ = inspirational = mental health warrior = until you say something that offends another mental health warrior, then = scum / reject.
Staying quiet = shame = stigma = secret struggles = pressure = suicide = statistic.

 

Saying something = warning others of my triggers = telling them how to hurt me = deliberate re-triggering = self-harm / suicidal thoughts = closing up = low self-worth.
Staying quiet = people always crossing boundaries = easily triggered = self-harm / suicidal thoughts = resentment / relationship woes = fallouts = low self-worth.

 

Saying something = hurting other people = self-hatred = ‘I should die’
Staying quiet = hurting myself = self-hatred = ‘I should die’.

 

 

---

 

You see? There is no way to win. Whatever I do I’m screwed. I know I’m not the only one to experience these feelings of ‘Should I say something or just keep my feelings to myself?’ We take so long deciding on the best option, but whatever we go with we end up suffering.

 

I’m well aware that most people would rather I hid my feelings, hurt myself and stayed quiet, instead of saying things they don’t like. I wish they knew the agonising I did about whether to say anything or not.

 

What I got from someone the other day though, is that it’s better to be honest and say what’s upsetting me, so that I feel heard by the people who DO care, rather than to suffer in silence. The only trouble with this is believing that anybody actually does care, and also that people upset by my voice are very vocal about it most of the time, and this does result in me punishing myself for daring to stand up for myself, or look out for my own needs. In my bid to not self-harm, but to express myself, I often end up being made to feel guilty, like an awful person, and as a result I self-harm anyway. I cannot win.

 

I wish people would understand that I’m stuck. I suffer, whether it is alone, in silence, or whether I ‘reach out’ to others. I always suffer. And my God I’m the one who ends up hurting, I promise you that. You may think I’m trying to hurt you, but in reality I’m trying to resist hurting myself. But if push comes to shove I would sooner hurt myself than cause someone else pain. I just wish others would feel the same way about me. They don’t. Too many in my life have caused me pain and not even flinched.

 

But with me, if I even sense I’ve upset someone, out comes the blade. I don’t choose to upset other people. I just get tired of them hurting me, and me not being able to stop it… not being able to stand up for myself or express my hurt, because it will offend other people… which results in me hurting myself as penance. So I’m hurt by others, and hurt by myself for speaking out about that hurt.

 

Nobody has ever accepted the truth well. They always turn it round to make me the bad person. They never whole-heartedly accept that they caused me pain or weren’t there for me. It’s always got to be at least a little my fault.

 

I know they’d all prefer me to shut up … it would make their own existence easier. And that’s why my self-worth is at an all-time low. Because I am just an obstacle to the lives of others. I’m too easily hurt and triggered, and that means people have to apologise, and feel bad – how dare I make them feel that way, right? How dare I ask that they put effort in to make me feel they care about me, yes? That gets in the way of them living their lives. Why don’t I just go away and die in a corner somewhere? That’s how I always feel.

 

Me – ‘I-I-I’m v-v-very sorry to disturb your h-happiness, b-b-but can you p-p-please stop doing w-what you’re d-d-doing to hurt m-m-me…?’
Them – ‘Oh just piss off with your negativity, stop criticising me, you’re making me feel shit about myself – you’ve really upset me now… not talking to you anymore, loser’.

 

So I have to quietly put up with being hurt, being forgotten, being alone, so that I don’t interrupt the lives of others. Now can you see why I feel so worthless and a burden most of the time? I watch everyone getting on with their lives, being lucky enough to know happiness… in the meantime I’m hurting and alone … but saying so upsets them, so I have to just silently drown, alone.

 

Whatever I do I will end up isolated, either being a bitch or a doormat, I’ll never be the right amount of ‘ill’ to get help, I’ll be avoided by everyone, I’ll either be rejected or I’ll be dead, my self-worth will be on the floor and I’ll think I should die. Whichever way I look at it, whatever choice I make, people are the complication in life that will always decide my fate. And I will never be cared for as much as people care for their own egos. This will always make me inferior. It will always mean I must suffer in silence until my death… for their sakes. What is the point of my existence? It’s hopeless.

 

 

 

A Wasted Life.

 

It’s been a difficult day. I spent the afternoon crying, even while writing most of this post. I feel I made the right choices in the end – stepping away, telling family I felt upset, and playing board games with them whilst treating myself to a hot chocolate. Could’ve played out differently. Really tired now, feeling emotionally drained. Here’s what I wrote earlier:

 

 

I carry a heavy burden every day of my life. This is something separate from all the other difficulties in my life. It’s something that dwells inside me, alongside grief, mental illness, interpersonal issues, everyday life. It’s something that not many people could understand. And it’s something I can’t get away from.

 

I’m in my thirties, and I don’t have children. I don’t have a relationship. I live with my family. I love my family… so much it hurts. It hurts me the most, that I can’t give my parents grandchildren. It’s unlikely I’ll be an aunty, so the burden falls on me to be the bearer of grandchildren. But that would require being stable enough and feeling good enough about myself, to get out there and meet people, to find someone suitable to settle down with – even then, they’d have to return my feelings, which has never happened…. I can’t see anyone ever loving me. And if by some miracle I find a perfect guy for me, who loves me, marries me, wants a family with me… how many years will all that take? I’ll be in my forties before then. And what if I can’t have children?

 

Sorry, I’m really upset at the moment. I was in the middle of eating a piece of chocolate before writing this post, and randomly burst into tears while reading something totally unconnected on Twitter … I have no idea what my subconscious was doing, but I reached this place, and I’m in tears as I write this now. I find the topic extremely upsetting.

 

My family have never ever put any pressure on me, or expectations for anything like that. They’ve always made it clear that the only thing they want is for me to be happy. Which in itself is an issue, because I’m not happy. I’m deeply unhappy. And a part of my happiness will only come from making other people happy… knowing that the people I love are happy. The reality is I want nothing more than to have a soulmate, a companion… to not be lonely anymore. To have a best friend for a husband, and to have children of our own. I want that so much. And the realisation that this will never happen for me, is what makes me so unhappy. It doesn’t matter how many people tell me ‘It’ll happen’, ‘There’s someone special out there for you, you’ll find him’, ‘People are having babies in their forties a lot more nowadays’, ‘You’re a lovely person, you deserve love and happiness’…. it honestly doesn’t matter how many people say these words…. they’re empty. They mean nothing in my life. These are things usually said by people who have the very things I lack. Some women are lucky in life. They have their looks on their side. They have confidence. They aren’t as intense, and don’t have BPD. They have great jobs. They have lots of friends. They live alone. They have experience. I have nothing. I have no experience. I have a lot of experience of mental illness. I have low self-esteem, I feel I’m ugly. I feel I’m a mess inside and out. And nobody has shown a genuine interest in my many years of availability. Not a proper interest. They were either jerks or the one guy who was a friend, but didn’t spell it out clearly enough for me at the time that he liked me, so I missed it, I missed him, and my ex-best friend came and swept up the pieces for herself when I was out of the country. Now she’s happy at the expense of my life. I lost everything the moment she went behind my back. Nothing’s been the same since.

 

Even if I hadn’t ended up with the guy, my life could’ve been so different now if she hadn’t done what she did. I’d have still had my group of friends. I would’ve got out more and met more people, built my confidence and have felt less isolated. I would still have trust for people. I’d have hope. So she honestly took so much from me. If it hadn’t happened, six years ago now… I could well have been married by now. But what happened traumatised me, as it sent a shockwave through my whole life – everything changed overnight. And I’ll admit I still hate her for it and can’t forgive her. Not yet. It damaged me and I’ve not met a single person yet, dedicated enough, to help me fix myself.

 

 

 

I’ve shut off from getting close to anyone. I have closed off to men. I did meet one recently who couldn’t be more off-limits, but I’d love to use him as a template for who would be right for me. I think my taste in men has improved, and I’m on the right track. The trouble is finding one who is single and that even slightly resembles what I need… at my age most of the good ones are spoken for. And I don’t want to settle for someone who settles for me, if that makes sense…? I don’t want to have to accept someone, because they have no other options left. I guess a part of me feels if anybody wants me they must be desperate. And I don’t want desperate. I want to know I stand out above every other woman for him. I want to be chosen. I want my own love story.

 

I’m just constantly aware of the passing of time. I know they make jokes about a woman’s biological clock… it’s no laughing matter. But that’s not actually what this is. This is more the feeling that I’m going to be alone forever. And that I will never give my parents grandchildren. And they deserve to be grandparents. They’d be amazing grandparents. And I wish I could give them that gift. That opportunity. It hurts me so much that I can’t do that right now…

 

I’m upset again. Because I think about the fact we’re all getting older. We never know what’s around the corner. We never know how long we have in this life. It’s all tied in with not wanting to lose them too. But to think I might lose them having never given them grandchildren… I can hear my heart breaking… And if by some miracle I do get to be a mother one day, but not for another ten / fifteen years… what if my parents aren’t here anymore, for advice, support, and to build memories with?

 

There’s just this permeating loneliness in my life. There’s the reality that if things continue as they are… I have one grandparent left. After that I have my parents. If they go, I have my brother… but he might not live in this country by then. If I don’t meet someone, I will be alone in this world. Nobody could ever understand facing that prospect. And that’s why feeling supported and cared about by my friends matters to me, and when I feel isolated and alone, it cuts me to pieces. Because this fear of being alone is a very strong possibility for me. I don’t have a fear of being alone, as in spending time on my own – I welcome it, I need it otherwise I get overwhelmed. But I do have a fear of ending up alone, and of being isolated and lonely. To me that’s a very rational fear. For me it’s this fear that my life is pointless. What is the point of my existence if I don’t bring children into this world? I know some people can’t or choose not to have children, and I don’t think that of them! But for myself I do, because what else have I achieved in my life? I feel all I’ve been is a burden. I have nothing for anyone to be proud of. I’ve not known happiness ever in my life. I don’t want our line to die out. I want to experience everything others get to.

 

 

 

I’ve already had to accept that my granddad never got to see me be happy. He never saw me with anyone. He never saw me succeed. He’ll never be at a wedding of mine. He’ll never meet any children I could have. And that shattered my heart back then. I also have to accept that my nan won’t see it either. It won’t happen quickly enough to allow for that. So I’m just sat watching the people I love age, and die, and I’m still in the same place – worse actually as my mental health has gone downhill… it’s like I’m so desperate to be happy and loved, and to be a mother and have them all meet my potential children, but I’m trapped in circumstances beyond my control… and all the while I’m watching them all slip away. I feel by the time it might happen for me, they’ll all be gone.

 

So when people say it’ll happen for me, I want them to realise it’s already happened for them. They don’t know it’s going to happen for me. And if it does happen for me it’s going to hurt so much if it happens too late to share it with the people I love. I want them to see me happy and loved. I don’t want them all to die, knowing I’m so deeply depressed, hate myself, I’m lonely and not heading anywhere good. I want them to know I’ll be okay. But I’m not happy. I’m not loved. I’m not okay. And I have to live with the guilt of that every day.

 

I’m always told not to put this sort of pressure on myself. But try being me. Try being my age, with my mental illness, with my relationship history or lack thereof, my looks, my achievements or lack thereof, my small but wonderful family and tell me you wouldn’t feel bad for this predicament…

 

I feel like a failure. And I feel it’s beyond my control, because nobody will ever want to settle down with me. So I feel powerless to do what I want to do in my life – to be a mother one day. I do feel I’ve given up before I’ve even tried. But I’m tired. I’m tired of all the hurt. I’m tired of trusting people who end up hurting me. I’m tired of all the games. I’m tired of waiting and hoping. I’m tired of believing it exists for me. I’m tired of wanting people I can’t have. I’m tired of getting attached and abandoned. I’m just done with it all. My past has broken me. Once upon a time I was a good prospect. I was young, thin, full of hope and not so cynical. Then shit happened. And you can see on my face, in my hair, in my body, on my arm, the way I walk, talk and distance myself from people, that shit happened. I can see it in photos, behind my eyes, that shit happened. And I wish we could go back to before shit happened…. before I decided I don’t want to do life anymore. But we can’t.

 

So please don’t say to me that I will meet someone, have children, be happy…. you don’t know that, and it means nothing. Please, instead say ‘I hope you find the happiness I know you deserve’. Hope is at least something. It’s something I have nothing of right now, but saying that it will happen one day, is actually very dismissive of how I  feel at the moment. I’ve got nothing against friends wishing happiness for me, and wishing I had someone to love. That would be a beautiful thing to feel… that it’s wished for me. But don’t invalidate my pain by saying it won’t always be this way. Because in my reality it will. You don’t know me well enough to say that… nobody does.

 

 

 

I know I struggle with my mental illness, but all that aside, I know I would be a wonderful mum. I know I have the mothering instincts. I know how to communicate with children. I know how to teach them. I know how to have fun. I’m protective and nurturing. I would give my children the world. I’d make sure they lived as well as my family have. I’d model their upbringing on the great upbringing I had. I wish I could have that opportunity to be a mother.

 

It’s something I long to do. And I wish life had panned out differently. I was given life, and in that moment I was born, surely there must have been hopes for my future. There must have been dreams of what I’d be when I grew up, and who I’d meet, and the children I’d have – the family holidays we’d all go on… the Christmases spent together… them watching their grandchildren grow up. Somewhere inside, even if they deny it, there must have been hopes. And I hate that my life has turned out this way. That I’ve let them down. Not only have I not given them grandchildren. I’m still a burden on them. They never make me think this in the slightest, but I feel like I’ve ruined their lives. They should be enjoying their lives now, without me, and I’m still here, like a parasite. I feel I’m holding them back. I feel I’m robbing them of their lives. If I was them I would regret bringing me into this world. And that kills me, because there was a time they’d have been so happy about having me, and I just think if they’d known then, how much of a strain life would be for me, and subsequently for them… would they have bothered being so happy to bring me into this world?

 

I’m sorry, I’m so upset. I can’t stop crying this afternoon. I just hate myself and my existence so much right now. I’m not coping with anything. I don’t know the way forward. It seems impossible. I wish I was a child again. I wish I could get back all those years after I left school, and do things differently. I have so much regret. But things have got too  bad now to be able to use that regret to power me towards what I do want. I’m just paralysed by it. I’ve missed too much, and now there’s nothing left. I don’t know what to do.

Tired Of ‘Life’.

*Contains suicidal thoughts*

 

 

I wrote this last night….

 

 

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This is hard for me to write, as I’m struggling to form thoughts and find the words to explain those thoughts right now. I feel like my brain is on shutdown at the moment. I feel like I’ve given up on everything. I feel scattered and an odd combination of ‘flat’ and ‘about to explode’ at the same time.

I can’t take living inside this mind and this body anymore. I’ve had enough. I can’t be fixed. I’m broken to a point where nobody can help me anymore. I just want to hand somebody my mind, get them to wipe it clean and hand it back to me. I cannot get over anything in my life. More and more painful memories are getting packed into it, and I can’t take any more. I’m full. I don’t care what people say about ‘use mindfulness’, ‘do this, do that’…. you don’t know me! These things don’t work for me. I’m a ****ing elephant!! I never forget. There are so many things and so many people I wish I could forget. But I can’t.

I don’t like life right now. I feel like I’m living in a totally different world compared to two years ago. Nothing feels certain, safe or secure. The family dynamic has changed after our loss. I’m feeling like a lot of friends don’t want to know me now they know how ****ed up I am. Politically things are insane, and I feel we’re going to be let down and I just think ‘what’s the point?’… The world feels scary. And then there’s this bloody person I don’t want to live without, but have to. I can’t do it. I’m probably not going to get the psychological help I need. And that will lead me to a very bad place. Because I really don’t want to do ‘life’ right now. Nobody knows how close to the edge I really feel. And I want to completely break down.

If I let go of that control over myself for a second, I will destroy the room I’m sat in…. I will roar louder than ever before…. I will hurt myself badly….. I will run away, and I will not be safe.

I don’t know how to keep living. But I’m trying my best to do it for now. I’m forcing myself through days, but I have no enjoyment in life. I have nothing to hope for. I have nothing to make it worth it. I’m sorry to have to admit that. I want to close off from everyone again. It’s a desperate, lonely chaos in my head and heart, and nothing truly brings me joy right now. Even this evening… I usually watch TV programmes and part way through I turned them off. I just couldn’t be bothered with them. I’ve lost interest in everything. I really am going through the motions, and surviving each day, just to go to sleep, knowing I have to do it again the next day. There is no point to my existence. All there is, is pain. Why would anyone want to live a life like that? How can anyone expect me to carry on, and ‘be strong’ or ‘be positive’ when there is no happiness, only pain and sadness?

I’m tired of this physical body. I’ve had enough of headaches, pains, a heart that doesn’t know how to keep a steady beat, and of always feeling tired. I’m sick of breathing. I am fed up with overthinking. I’m frustrated because nobody will want to help me… they’ll say I have to help myself…. they can’t see that I have given up on myself and my life. My experiences over the last few months have done this to me. I hadn’t given up on myself before therapy. A year ago, okay my granddad was still here, but I was still depressed. But I had it in me to get better… that’s why I reached out for help from the IAPT service. But now, I feel like a burden. I feel like nobody will want to help me. They will suggest things, I will express how little faith I have in it… the difficulties I have with it, and they’ll just give up on me too. All I need is that one bit of confirmation that I’m beyond help, and that will be it for me. All it will take is one more person giving up on me.

 

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……

I went to sleep telling myself the same thing I tell myself every night… “It’ll feel better in the morning”… and sure enough somehow it usually does. I felt very flat today and tired… weary of life. There were some good moments… distractions. But now it’s the evening again, and I feel the same as last night. On top of that I’m feeling like a selfish person. I’m not there for other people. I haven’t got it in me to do what people ask of me. I can’t help ‘entertain’ other people right now. I’m trying to survive. People keep expecting things of me, but they have no clue how hard I’m fighting the desire to die at the moment. I know it’s well-intended, but to me it’s added pressure. People want me to do ‘life’ and I want to escape it. And pushing me more towards doing it, makes me want to escape it more. I’m telling myself things will feel better again in the morning… but I know this feeling won’t go away.

IAPT, BPD & Me.

 

*Apologies for any bad language – a slight personal rant included. Mentions self-harm & suicidal thoughts*

 

I don’t know if I’m just not understanding the meaning, but there seems to be something very misleading about ‘IAPT’ services…. ‘Improving Access to Psychological Therapies’ – how exactly do they do this? I had access to them for four sessions. Okay I did a twelve week group as well, but that’s very different to working on your own individual issues with support. Four sessions to fix not only the problems I had before the group, but just the one to resolve issues that were awoken by the group. So yes, I had access, but now I don’t.

I feel that by ‘improving access’ they mean it’s accessible to everyone – in other words you can refer yourself. And you will get seen because it’s such quick turnaround. They see you for a couple of sessions and then ship you off to a group course to keep you occupied, before signing you off of their books, and shipping the new recruits in.

In a word, it’s a FACTORY.

There was something I saw on Twitter recently about IAPT and the burnout rate for Psychological Wellbeing Practitioners and High Intensity Therapists. This made me stop and think about the pressures that the staff are under to reach targets and provide the service they do. They may not have the training they need and the funding, to help those in need, and perhaps they feel powerless. But I had it pointed out to me that that’s not my problem.

I shouldn’t have anything to do with that side of things. I should expect top-notch care from people whose job it is to keep me safe and well. And if they failed me, they failed me. I shouldn’t feel sorry for them, that they are struggling too. I shouldn’t feel like a burden or like I’m too complex for them. I cannot help having the mental illness I have. I cannot help the fact there’s no support out there for people like me. I’m in need of help, and I should take up whatever help I can get – and it’s their job to provide that help. If they couldn’t do that, they’re not up to scratch, and that’s down to them.

Yes there are massive gaping holes in the NHS and mental health services. Something needs to be done about this. The staff are doing the best they can. They’re likely stressed and unsatisfied with the state of things too. But the difference is they are able to quit if they want. They can leave their jobs if it gets too much. I don’t have that luxury. I cannot quit my mental illness. I wish I could but I can’t. I need the help of people like them, in order to try and pull myself out of it. I rely on them. So I need them to do their best to help me.

And unfortunately in my experience I don’t feel all of them did their best. Even my doctor seemed disappointed in them. She knows how hard it was for me to keep going back to the group after my self-harming incident… that I pushed myself through the last few weeks of the course, to get the support at the end, and didn’t receive it. She herself had said weeks ago that the service was unlikely to abandon me at the end of the course, as clearly I’m not well……… that’s obviously not how the service works!! It seems they get rid of you, regardless of what state you’re in.

 

 

I wrote something about my incident so that the facilitators of the group, and my therapist would be aware of it. I believe those running the group read it, though I could be wrong – not sure I trust anything now, regarding this service. But I believed my therapist had it passed on to her. However it seems it was ‘added to my notes’ – which she clearly had no interest in reading. What was the bloody point?? I had already harmed because an encounter with one of the facilitators had left me feeling powerless, and that had made me question what the point in using the skills was, since they wouldn’t allow me to do so…. so to have my therapist, on top of that, make me feel like I wasted yet more of my time, I just think there’s no point trying with them. It’s not even like I’m a difficult person, refusing to co-operate! I was eager to learn, and to try things… I had knowledge and was pro-active. But it seems I was ahead of them in some regards. I knew what they could do to help me, but they didn’t seem to have a clue.

Is this my problem, or theirs? Is this a lack of training? Is it a lack of experience with someone like me? Am I too demanding? Am I too clued up about my own mental illness? Is it lack of funding to actually offer me real help? Is it apathy towards me?

Whatever it is, it felt like I was screaming out and pleading for their help, and they refused to give it. I felt like ending my life at times, as it would be doing them a favour, as I’m clearly a burden to them, just as I am to everyone else. I honestly thought they wouldn’t care if I did end my life, and they would’ve left me to get to that point. I actually considered doing this at one of the sessions. I harmed myself in a dangerous place, not caring about the consequences. But I was interrupted before it could go too far. I patched myself up and carried on as if it hadn’t just happened. They never knew this, and never will unless by some miracle they happen upon my blog and know it’s me.

At one point I spoke to one of the facilitators, and he said that if I’m struggling with the course and can’t go on with it, I could be offered a different therapy… I asked if that was through a different service somewhere else, and he said no, through this service. But me being a glutton for punishment, I chose to see the course to the end, and see my therapist. Now, if I hadn’t finished the course, would I have been offered this magical different therapy I wonder…? Because I sure as hell wasn’t offered it at the end. I don’t even know what it would have been!

I thought IAPT was about accessing different therapies – I thought it would open doors to recovery by being referred on to people who could help me… I thought it was this ‘stepped care model’ and with me being ‘Step 3’ I could be ‘stepped up’ to the CMHT if necessary. So do I assume that my therapist didn’t think I was ill enough to require this level of help? She clearly didn’t think I needed ANY help, as she discharged me! She thinks I need to help myself now. Well thanks a fucking lot! It’s not like I’ve been trying to do that for the last five years of my life!

Do they honestly think a twelve week course will help someone like me, and then that’s it? In a normal circumstance then perhaps… but given the disruption to my learning I experienced during that course, because of self-harm and transference, it’s almost impossible to feel I’ve benefited from the course, like others may have. So to treat me as a normal case, thinking I should be able to cope on my own now, because I’ve learnt the skills, taking no responsibility for the individual difficulties I faced because of this service, it’s not on. It’s not good enough.

And I hate to be someone who complains. I hate to seem ungrateful. It’s particularly hard, because one of the facilitators actually patched me up after I harmed myself, so I feel grateful to her, and the other one I admired greatly and felt emotionally attached to, so to slag off this service after the work they put in makes me feel really guilty.

But I think it is possible to be grateful for the help I did receive, to feel the way I do about one of them, and still say the help I received was not enough. It was a bad experience. They could have done more. And should have done more. I’m trying to come to terms with this conflict. I am grateful, I liked the facilitators as people, I feel strongly about one of them still, but as a service they let me down. And in fact each member of staff I came into contact with let me down personally in one way or another at some point. But people make mistakes, I know this. They are only human.

I don’t know if I’d use this service again. If I did I’d ask to see a different therapist, as I feel like we didn’t really gel. In fact I didn’t like her attitude at all. But right now I just need to recover from using this service. In the new year I hope to look at my folder from the group, and really reflect on what was discussed, because right now it’s a blur of emotions when I think about it. But otherwise it’s just business as normal – I have had to survive on my own for years now… no, I shouldn’t have to… I should get the support I need, but obviously that’s not going to happen, so I have to continue on as before, just with more psychological scars to contend with. I’ll give it my best shot… either I’ll sink or I’ll swim. I’ll either recover on my own, or I’ll reach the point where I can no longer be denied the help I need. That’s the sad state of the mental health services now… you have to be on death’s door before they’ll even contemplate helping you anymore. Either that or you have to be mild / moderate to be helped by IAPT. Unfortunately I’m more complex than that, despite what this service’s paperwork indicates (they said I had something like moderate depression and mild anxiety – you can’t diagnose me from that piece of paper, let me tell you that! It doesn’t cater for people like me). But the thing is I’m not actively trying to kill myself, therefore I’m not ‘ill enough’. So I, like many other people, particularly those with BPD, am stuck with nowhere to turn. That’s why being abandoned by this service now is a kick in the gut. I’m isolated because there’s no suitable help out there for me.

IAPT obviously isn’t geared up for those with BPD. But is that my fault? No. When I was discharged from the CMHT I was told that this service I’ve just used, is my option. In fact they’re my only option. So that’s why the doctor told me to speak to them. They’re most suitable for those with depression and anxiety, and hooray – I have both, but I have more than that too, which they can’t help me with. But does that mean I cannot have help? Since I don’t have an official diagnosis of BPD I’ll probably never get the level of help I need. I’ll probably never be able to see a psychiatrist to even be given the diagnosis now, so I am well and truly screwed. I, like many others with BPD, appear to be a casualty of the system, yet again. Not well enough to be treated by IAPT, and not ill enough to be treated by CMHT. Yet we as BPD soldiers, are most at risk to ourselves, so how it can be allowed that we suffer on our own I really don’t understand. At times I feel we’re deliberately being left to fend for ourselves, so that we will become part of the statistic, of ‘1 in 10 dying by their own hand’ – perhaps they want that particular statistic to grow. Maybe society wants us gone. Maybe I am a burden. Maybe they want me to kill myself as I am deemed ‘weak’. Like survival of the fittest, and although we’re stronger than most people will ever be, we’re viewed as ‘pathetic’ and ‘beyond help’… whilst those at either end of the scale for mental health are ‘worth saving’.

 

 

The damage that is being done to those of us who already have in-built beliefs, that we are worthless, a burden, unlovable, and we fear rejection and abandonment, is off the scale. I’m screaming inside ‘WHY WON’T ANYBODY HELP US?!‘ Do we not deserve help just as much as someone with mild depression? Have we not got as much to offer the world as someone with moderate anxiety? Does my life mean NOTHING??

Mental health services should be there to fix these beliefs we have about ourselves and life. They should be helping us to feel worthy. To make us realise we’re not a burden and we deserve love. They should be supporting us and encouraging us, not neglecting us and abandoning us after a couple of sessions. Many people with BPD, though not myself, have experienced neglect or abandonment as a child – to have that replicated by mental health services in adult life, is shameful.

I feel I was neglected in this process. And now I’m on my own again… with more negative beliefs lumped in, just to make it all that more difficult. I feel resentful towards them.

But the only good thing I feel right now, is a unity with all those other people out there with BPD, who cannot get the support they need, and are just as desperate as me. That gives me strength right now, to fight for justice for them, if not for me. The mental health services may not think my life matters, and I might not think my life matters, but I believe the lives of other BPD soldiers matter. And none of them should be let down like I have been let down. So I will keep speaking out for them. They are the only people who understand how I’m feeling right now. They are the ones who know what it’s like to constantly be at war in your own head, and to feel like your heart is screaming in pain, and exploding silently in your chest. The only ones who know the battle to get up in the morning, and pretend that a night of crying and harming yourself didn’t happen… we live to fight another day, with no hope in sight. They are my family. And they matter in this world. If mental health services can’t see it, then at least I do.

I know the strength it takes to ride this rollercoaster every single day. I know the ‘highs’ that aren’t actually all that high, and I know the lows, as low as Earth’s core. I know the feeling that we will never fit in, and function in this world like ‘normal’ people. I know the self-hatred. I know the intense emotions and the emotional and physical scars they leave us with. I know the despair, the fear and the loneliness. I know the pain of just living. Whilst others enjoy their lives we simply exist, and try to survive. We deserve more than this. But we can’t do it alone. We need mental health services to help us. That’s their job. So unless they want blood on their hands, it’s about bloody time they do it.

xxxx