The Past Is Never The Past.

*Suicide references near the end*




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

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



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


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



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


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



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


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




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


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



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


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



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


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



BOTH prioritised each other over me.

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

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

BOTH failed to understand mental illness.

BOTH refused to acknowledge they hurt me or discuss it.

BOTH wanted my silence on the topic.

BOTH preferred me as a doormat.

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

BOTH communicated how utterly worthless they think I am.

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

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

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


Now they’re friends.

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

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

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

That goes for both of them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They are both responsible for what happens to me now.



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


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


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


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


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


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

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





*Self-harm & suicidal thoughts*


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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

Perpetual Past.

perpetual past



I’m at a bad point in my life in terms of my mental health. This is made worse by reminders of my past. I want to explain this here.


When I was at school I was bullied. I was socially excluded. I lived through breaktimes and lunchtimes on my own, stood at the side of the playground, watching others have their fun. Do you have any idea how lonely and humiliating that would be for a child? To not be accepted by your peers just because you’re quiet and shy, and actually willing to learn. I used to have to beg people in my class, if I could tag along with them, just so I didn’t feel so lonely and look like a sad loner. This was again humiliating, and risked rejection. I don’t know if I was rejected – perhaps I was sometimes, but I’ve blocked most of my childhood out so cannot recall. I was always seen as ‘different’ and paid the price for it by not being included.


The reason this is in my mind lately is because I feel socially excluded again. Nobody talks to me. I have to practically beg people to communicate with me… to care about me… I feel I’m standing at the side of the playground that is ‘life’, and watching everyone else get on enjoying living it, and I’m all alone, forgotten, rejected, abandoned and merely a spectator of everyone else’s joy. I have to ask for support from people. I ‘cry for help’ on social media, and everyone chooses the best thing to do with me is ignore me. They don’t take it seriously. They don’t realise how painful and frustrating it is to be ignored when you’re reaching out for help, and how humiliating it is at the same time, that I’ve put myself out there, publicly asking for care and support, and everyone can see that nobody is there for me. It’s public rejection. I don’t feel accepted by anyone. Because of my beliefs and also because of my mental illness.


I’ve had bad experiences with men, that’s why those experiences are very limited. There was a guy called Joe who was okay to begin with, but then he did the thing jerks do, which is to blow hot and cold. He’d feed me crumbs and I started to see them as slices instead. I would chase after his attention. I would degrade myself, trying to get him to return the feelings I had for him. It was never going to happen. I was just a game to him. I was an ego stroke and entertainment. I would spend so many nights crying my heart out over him… problem-solving with my friends about what was going on in his head, and what to do to ‘fix’ the situation. He’d seem interested and appear to change, only to vanish off the radar again a couple of weeks later… not talking to me for weeks… months at a time even. I kept getting rejected over and over again. I kept forgiving him and letting him back, exposing myself to more rejection further down the line. In the time he wasn’t talking to me I would obsess over the possibilities, for why that might be – maybe he was having troubles, maybe he got scared, maybe I offended him, maybe he was just busy. And ‘busy’ was another thing he’d use so often. The trouble is eventually ‘busy’ started to sound like an excuse. I’d already been through experiences where people said they were too busy… yet they seemed to have time for anyone else but me… he was one of those people too.


The reason this is weighing on my mind right now, is that the inconsistency and unreliability he showed me, is being reflected in my friendships. But the trouble is I have come to expect it from those friends. So it’s the consistency of the inconsistency if you see what I mean. It’s replicating the same feelings I experienced with Joe. For instance, I had some issues with a friendship, drifted apart from them, we sorted things and met a couple of times… things seemed like they might change… like they understood how I felt and what I needed, and then it reverted back to how it was before….. it felt like the ‘hot and cold’ ‘breadcrumb’ thing. My hopes became too high, that things would improve but it always ends the same. It really is making me relive those experiences and those same feelings as before. Which then makes me resent the friend for making me feel the same way he did. I’m not shown the level of care I need, so I degrade myself by uncontrollably having meltdowns quite publicly about my feelings, which mimics the levels I went to in order to get the care I wanted from Joe. The trouble is, where I used to problem-solve with friends about it, I can’t do this in this situation, because the very friend I would do this with, is the one I’m experiencing the problem with. So I’m alone in having to deal with it. It’s become routine to go anywhere between two weeks, to two months not talking to them. And the trouble I’m facing at the moment is I’m telling myself I’m done. No more forgiving. No more repeating this, as my soul can’t take it anymore. I’m telling myself to cut them off, so that I don’t have to keep reliving the same shit over and over again. In my head I’m treating them as though they are Joe, and just as he ran out of chances I feel they too are doing the same. And I hate that. I hate that I’ve become like this, but it honestly is like reliving those days, where I kept making excuses for his disappearing acts and lack of care. I’m telling myself there’s a good reason for it – but that doesn’t change the way I feel about it. It still hurts. I still feel let down. I tell myself it’s my fault and I’ve upset them, so feel the same guilt I did before… but then I also feel the same – that communication is needed. And this friend is busy. I know that. I know they have a life I could never understand, as I have no life. I’m not for one minute saying they’re making it up. I know it’s busy. But all I’m saying is when I already am reminded of Joe by this person, and I hear ‘busy’, I hear ‘excuses’, even though it’s not. It’s just a part of the flashback.


I had a group of friends. This gave me the support and social life / confidence I needed to get out there and live my life. Disregarding for a moment, the fact one of them betrayed me badly and ruined everything I had, as that’s not relevant to this post (it was the catalyst for the destruction of my life, but that’s another story)… one of them showed me up in front of the others, attacked me and badmouthed me, and I became alienated from the group. I was cast as the villain and people took her side by continuing to meet up with her, without challenging her behaviour and standing up for me. Their loyalty failed. This was very upsetting in itself because when I was at school, about age 12 or 13, I was bullied in front of the class by a girl named Lisa and her minions, and nobody stopped her. Not the people I regarded as ‘friends’… not even the teacher, who asked her to stop once, and didn’t bother once she went back to it. That was bloody humiliating and very upsetting. It showed me up in front of everyone and nobody defended me. So this encounter with my group of friends mimicked that. Nobody had my back against this bully of a friend.

This feeling has been repeated time and time again since… in the last couple of years a ‘friend’ kept attacking me because of my political views. She would pick fights with me and argue very publicly. She personally insulted me off the back of a political conversation, and rather than people saying it wasn’t right, most people defended her! They didn’t have my back. The one who did defend me had to put up with someone disagreeing with her, seemingly defending the ‘friend’. I get hurt, yet I feel since the encounter I’m alienated. I feel my time with that group came and went, because of the same sort of problems.

And then the latest group, where I don’t feel able to join in conversations anymore. Because of another case of political disagreement. I know I’m the outsider in that group when it comes to that. But also my interpretation of a situation (or the situation itself) was that as a result of something I said, they said something in the group and got all the support of everyone, making me feel excluded and like ‘the bad guy’ again. I admit I may have been wrong, but it seemed too coincidental, the timing. Even if things have moved on since then, I am unable to. I feel excluded and like they all hate me.


These things just keep repeating. And to be going through all those past experiences totally alone… reaching out for help and being ignored, it’s too much. I feel as though I’m dead. And I’m wishing that I was. I wish I could portray the feeling created by these experiences… I can actually see a depiction of the silent scream, but could never convey it properly for others to see. Sometimes I want to rip myself apart and then rip the very fabric of existence…. tear a hole in the universe and scream into it.


I’m not just battling depression, anxiety, BPD, paranoia, suicidal thoughts, self-harm, grief, loss upon loss upon loss… I’m battling my past. And it’s not a simple case of ‘let it go’. If I could I would, but people keep recreating my past for me. Nothing changes. I can’t forget it because people won’t allow me to by treating me better! The result is I think why bother living life if it’s always going to go the same? I can’t keep feeling the same feelings over and over again. I won’t.


My work experiences also keep repeating themselves. I keep facing things that caused me to leave past places. I have to fight to keep going and not let it force me out.


Even the transference issue I had at therapy last year was a replication of past issues… I wasn’t allowed to talk to Matt about my feelings and about the issue in order to resolve it and draw a line under it. As soon as they found out about it, three different female therapists would be the ones to deal with me. The one co-running the group with Matt would take over discussions with me. My individual therapist afterwards who was less than helpful, and then another one to deal with the issues I had in the group. Even though I felt I knew what was needed, it was passed off as some misguided hope of something – like I was clinging on and that it wouldn’t help. I’m sorry but I knew full well what I was thinking. And I still to this day feel angry that these women didn’t listen to me. I have been denied a sense of closure by every man I’ve met. This has destroyed my faith in men, has made me close off to them and given me attachment issues. I saw this as an opportunity to change all that. I felt if I could have had one last conversation with him, as a therapist, he could have fixed all those broken parts of me – all those heart-breaking beliefs I’ve been given by experience. He could have taught me that it’s okay to like someone who doesn’t like you back, and that it doesn’t mean you have to feel ashamed, or keep away from the person out of embarrassment. That things can be ‘cool’. He could have shown me that I can be rejected but still respected and wished well personally. He could’ve let me say what I needed to that I never got to say in the past to people… I could have said goodbye and felt there was a line drawn under it all. But because I obviously had to be kept away from him, this therapeutic opportunity was wasted and I feel all the worse for it. I feel I was denied a chance to grow and the chance for things to be different. I feel it was forced upon me, I was ripped away from him with no closure for my peace of mind, and I never got a conversation that I’ve been denied my whole life…

This isn’t me just holding on – look, I’m holding on now anyway, BECAUSE I didn’t get that sense of closure. I’m not healing and I never will, because I walked away with embarrassment, shame, feeling unheard, misunderstood and rejected – just not rejected by him, but the wall of female therapists who protected him, or protected me from him, or whatever….

I know from my own experiences how long it takes me to heal…. I’m still not healed from anyone else I’ve loved and lost. I know how long this will scar me for. How long it will affect me for. I just wanted a chance for it to be different this time. I didn’t want something from him. I didn’t want anything other than being set free… but by the person directly … by direct communication. I’ve only ever heard through other people or through silence. I deserve more than that. I’m really so upset by this at the moment. It’s the first time I’ve cried whilst writing this post. I just feel so annoyed that therapy should be about helping you, and about change. And they weren’t willing to help me see a change. They expect me to face the same circumstances and deal with that differently. No. I need circumstances to change otherwise I can’t live in this world. Because circumstances have taught me I’m worthless…. I don’t deserve honesty and direct communication… having feelings for someone is the start of goodbye….. I’m a fat, ugly, horrible person who makes people feel uncomfortable because of the intensity of my emotions…. and that men can’t be trusted and will never treat me well.

They missed an opportunity to heal me. If I was in America and paid to go private they’d have allowed it. They’d have cared about doing what was necessary to bring about a change. But since they missed the chance, my life will continue on a loop… nothing will change… I will face the same problems again and again… and there will be no better opportunity to challenge those demons and make things right – it was the most open I’d been and it took a heck of a lot of courage to admit to my feelings to them all… it was all for nothing in the end. They missed it. They got it wrong. They didn’t help me early enough and when they did, they didn’t hear what I was saying. They thought they knew better as they’re the professionals. Nobody will ever give me what I need to heal – a conversation in person… that was the chance. It’s gone now. So I have to keep going through life being rejected and avoided, treated like shit… I’ll probably never put myself out there ever again, because it always ends the same. It’s ironic that the whole course was about dealing with vicious circles, and when I tried to break mine and do things differently, they didn’t allow me to do so. I blame them for not only keeping me stuck where I was, but for digging me in deeper, making it harder for me to ever break out and be free. I’m angry with them.


I’m just so sick of people cutting open old scars and not understanding why I’m bleeding and why it hurts so damn much! They just run away and leave me to bleed to death.


As it happens I am now reliving my youth… I’m in the same place I was in my late teens…. having only my family…. struggling with my volunteering…. too down and anxious to leave the house…. the worst I’ve been in many years.


All I’ve ever wanted was a chance to move forward, but those around me just won’t let that happen. When the chips are down they’re nowhere to be seen. And my life spirals round and round, down into my past and washes away any progress I made. I’m in a much worse place now than I was two years ago. Life has gone to hell. I’m weary of it all. Sometimes I wish I could sleep forever…



Splitting On Therapists.

*Apologies for some of the language*


So I’ve talked before about ‘splitting’. It’s a term commonly associated with BPD. It’s when I go from thinking the world of someone, to hating them. Well this week I have had a problem in that I am now splitting with the therapists who run the group I attend. The only positive thing is that I’m aware it’s splitting. So I do rationally know there’s good and bad to them… and at the moment I’m just caught up in all the negatives. It doesn’t make it any less distressing for me.

I’m feeling paranoid right now, like there’s some conspiracy to make me suffer, and make me deal with things on my own… I feel they’ve discussed me and decided not to help me. One of them, I gave a note to them at the start of the last session, saying I needed prompting to speak, as I had something I wanted to say but felt unable to speak out… she nodded at me as if to say ‘okay’, but when the time came she didn’t even look at me, and I nearly missed my chance to speak! I had to force words out of my mouth on my own. I feel this was a choice she made, not to help me with it. And this pisses me off! What would have happened if we’d moved on and I hadn’t spoken? I’d have been burdened by what I couldn’t say, and unable to concentrate, stuck in a cycle like the previous week, and I’d have probably walked out and done myself harm.

The other therapist, I sent a text the following morning to say I’d left the session in a bad state (didn’t say in which way, but I had suicidal thoughts brought on by something we discussed, and for various reasons I harmed myself later) … that although he’d said if anyone didn’t feel safe, to talk to them, I felt unable to because of time restrictions… that I felt misunderstood and isolated by saying what I did at the start of the session, as the group didn’t understand my meaning… and that I was the closest I’ve been to quitting the group….

He didn’t respond.

This has set off a whole heap of emotions and memories for me. Because of my transference issue with him, I’m disappointed that he appears to be treating me the same way I’ve been treated by men in the past. I’m having memories of when I reached out to a man who meant a lot to me, asking for support and he completely ignored me. He went silent. I needed the therapist to not be the same as those from my past, but he’s let me down in that respect. So now I’m having flashbacks to everything bad that’s happened in my life, in that regard.

I’m experiencing guilt for sending the text, and the feelings of needing to ‘fix’ it. I’m having the resignation and despondency, where I feel like saying ‘You know what, forget it‘. I feel I can’t trust him. I don’t want to talk to him or anyone now. I want to cope on my own. I want to shut off from everyone, and if I deteriorate and keep harming, so what? I feel rejected and abandoned. I feel stupid for saying anything. I’m thinking he’s just like the rest of them – no wonder I don’t trust men anymore…. and then I feel annoyed with myself for thinking badly of him, considering I like him. I feel guilty for tarring him with the same brush as all the others when it’s not his fault, yet annoyed that him ignoring a message is making ME feel guilty!! It’s very intense and confusing…

I’m remembering when someone once said to me ‘How you think messaging me all the time is going to make me like you, I don’t know’. Okay I sent one text, and haven’t followed it up, but it’s still kicked off those memories for me. I had to fight the obsessive ‘checking of the phone’ I used to go through in the past… my phone will be off until the next session now. I don’t want to talk anymore. It’s brought up feelings of shame for me. Fear. Anger. Anxiety. Self-hatred. Heartbreak.

I’m also thinking maybe I wasn’t supposed to text him, and that I’ll be in trouble for doing the wrong thing. But then I feel angry, because all I was doing was informing them, through him, as I didn’t feel able to phone someone, that I was not good… what do they want me to do? Go a whole week harming myself? Quit the group? Suffer in silence? What sort of fucking therapy is that?! So I feel mad that they’re making me feel alone, and tearing down my self-esteem and self-worth, when they should be building it up.

I feel like all I am to them is a burden, and a nuisance… and that’s all I feel in my waking life anyway, so to have the therapists ‘confirm’ this belief for me… it’s not great.

I have gone from thinking such great things about them, to feeling totally unsupported, let down, abandoned, and detested by them. I almost feel scared of them right now. This makes me feel I can’t trust them anymore. Their words are empty. They’ve had enough of me. I resent them. I’m not going to reach out for help anymore. I’m just going to sit in silence from now on, as if I’m not there. They obviously don’t want me to be.

The fact I’m aware of the splitting doesn’t really help – the only thing that would help is to talk to them about this and resolve it, but I’m not going to do that, as they clearly don’t want to help me. I obviously take up too much of their time already. So I won’t bother them again.

It’s bad enough having impossible, unrequited feelings for a therapist, known as ‘transference’… which ideally would be worked through with him, but can’t be…. but to have that therapist ignore my plea for help too…. when it took everything I had in me to reach out for that help, thinking I don’t deserve it… and facing possible rejection…. I can’t put that into words, how much it’s mashed my head up.

It’s like my past is living out through this therapy, and I’m totally unsupported through it. The therapist wouldn’t help me with my problem, but let others switch to see him. When I phoned to be let into the building he didn’t answer me, but he answered someone else. He’s now left me in the lurch. He doesn’t give a fuck about me, that much is clear. Painfully clear. And the trouble is, I needed him to show me not all men are the same. That there’s a man out there who respects me, values me, cares about me, and only wishes well for me. But so far he’s shown me that… anyone else but me matters… he will ignore me – ie I’m unimportant, worthless etc… I’m a needy mess that nobody will ever like…. I can’t trust men. I can’t see a way this can be fixed now, unless he’d be prepared to have a conversation with me and undo all the damage he’s doing. Thing is he’s not even aware he’s doing any damage, as he doesn’t know my story. But that doesn’t make it any easier for me. All it does is make me also feel guilty for being mad with him, when he doesn’t know he’s hurting me.

I have tried looking at the other possibilities as to why he didn’t respond. He may not have received the message if it was too long. He might not have had his work phone on – could have been a couple of days off. He might have had to talk to someone else to ask what to do. He may have been too busy or forgot. Or it could be I shouldn’t have used the number for an issue like that. But I was only trying to be pro-active in helping myself, rather than having a whole week feeling like shit. Which is what’s happening now. He’s not going to contact me over the weekend. By the time he could, it’ll be too late – it’ll be the next session. If he / they pull me aside next week and tell me I shouldn’t have sent that text, I’ll walk out. I’ll quit there and then.

All I can say is it’s good the next session is about ‘anger’.

Poem: Thanks.


Thank you for ignoring me, thank you for your silence;

Thank you for the scars you caused, through such poetic violence.

Thank you for reminding me that men are all the same –

The only way they differ is by their looks and name.

Thank you for the memories you’ve triggered in my mind,

Of rejection and abandonment, from times I left behind.

Thank you for avoiding me, for giving me wide berth;

For the wonderful, amazing job you’ve done on my self-worth.

Thank you too for treating me with sensitivity,

To take my insecurities and play them out for me.

I notice as the weeks go by I learn to trust you less;

I thank you for the way you dodge what I need to address.

Thank you for the way you make me feel I won’t be missed…

The way you showed such little care the time I cut my wrist.

Thank you for informing me my feelings do not matter;

For watching on in silence as my heart and spirit shatter.

Thank you for the jealousy you do not know you stir;

The way you stay away from me, but seem to care for her.

Thank you for these moments when your actions make me ‘split’;

Thank you for destroying me, slowly, bit by bit.

I thank you for the knowledge you carry of my love,

And how you’d watch me kill myself – if push came to shove.

Reaching out to ask for help, it was my last resort…

Thanks for disregarding me. Thanks for your support.