Poem: Drowning Through Life.

My Prison Soul (1)

 

Drowning Through Life

 

That place between life and death,
That void…
That’s where you’ll find me;
Swimming around in an ocean of emotions
Too immense for the human soul to witness,
Or the human body to contain.
No breaths of relief can be taken here.
I choke on the fluidity of people’s inclination to care,
To stay there,
To see my worth;
I drown in the words unspoken,
Unheard,
The lack of sentiment, the lack of words.
I gulp down indifference
And gargle blame,
Lost in this sea where nobody recalls my name.
Even the sharks that usually circle at the scent of blood
Care little to devour me –
Nowhere to be seen;
Though I bleed profusely from my wounds,
I bleed not red but emerald green…
The colour of envy –
Envious of those who get to live on solid ground
And know not the horror of drowning through life;
Jealousy of those who matter to someone,
Whose cries can be heard and are satisfied
By a love, an interest, a connection,
The warmth of affection –
Not left to the ravaging currents of these ice-cold depths,
Forever a
lone…
My blood is water,
Water, my blood –
My broken heart feeding salt to the sea
Which then in turn reminds me of how those tears came to be.
Can anyone see me here, sinking under the waves?
Am I worthy of being saved?
You’ll see my face in a crowd
But I am not there –
My mind is elsewhere,
In that far-off land – unable to live, not ready to die,
With no-one to help me or to bid me goodbye.
Look for me in between these worlds,
Find my soul;
Please see me
And return me to myself,
Or else
I fear
These days will be my last.

 

 

 

Forgotten & Fading.

So this week has consisted of me feeling extremely depressed, suicidal and isolated… reaching out about how I feel and getting zero back…. contacting my doctor because the chemist said there was a shortage of my medication, only for the surgery to then tell me the chemist have my owing medication in (nice of them to inform me!)…. talking to someone on Twitter about politics, only for them to come  back saying ‘Sorry don’t know you (etc.)’ as if to say ‘I don’t know you so your opinion is irrelevant to me’… ‘Who are you and why the hell are you talking to me?’… oh and then today expecting a call from the Job Centre – they never called.

 

So to sum it up – I feel entirely invisible. Whilst waiting for my phone call I started wondering if I am in fact real…. or if I’m dead… I even started thinking maybe I’m actually a figment of someone else’s imagination.

 

Facebook ‘friends’ didn’t notice my pain or me needing them.
The chemist didn’t see fit to tell me my medication was in.
First person I try and converse with in ages is like ‘Don’t know you’.
And the Job Centre forgot our appointment.

Oh yes, and it feels like the Wellbeing Centre have also forgotten I exist… that or they think I’m too messed up for them to help. I was told it’d be a 3 or 4 week wait until I hear from them…. it’s been 6 and a half weeks so far.

 

With my best friend abandoning me this year too, it just feels every single person on this planet has given up on me. They’re all rejecting me, forgetting me, blanking me. It’s almost impossible to not take that personally when you’re as ill as I am. I feel I don’t exist… and when I don’t want to exist, it only pushes me closer to that reality.

 

But hey, in good news… yesterday I finally left the house…. I may have plotted my demise on my long walk home. But at least I got out.

 

The loneliness, the grief, the powerlessness, the silence… it’s all hurting too much. I’m really not okay… and nobody even asks me how I am anymore. Nobody knows how bad things are for me, because they don’t talk to me. They don’t want to know.

 

I’m spending most days not looking after myself – eating or drinking enough. I have headaches every day at the moment. I often can’t sleep – I’ll be wide awake at 2/3am, unable to turn my mind off… unable to even move because of the mental paralysis caused by my emotions and memories. And then I can’t wake up in the morning… it’ll go 10am before I wake up. I can’t work. I hardly ever go out. I’m just trying to tolerate every hour of every day and just survive. I’m always inches from the edge. I had a breakdown yesterday, because I have so much pain and loneliness inside. I have to keep it all to myself. I hate myself. I hate life. I feel so disconnected. I can’t cope. I try and hold it all inside and then it bursts out when I’m alone.

 

I’m in limbo at the moment. And I’m invisible too while I’m there. And in agony. I’m slipping through the fingers of faith. There’s no hope for me, only blind faith that something or someone will help me at some point…. and I just have to hold on until that point…. I’m losing my grasp every day. It’s almost too late. I can feel it. And I don’t care anymore. I just want the peace of feeling nothing… thinking nothing… remembering nothing. This isn’t the life I was born into. I don’t know how to live it. But for now ‘survival’ is the best I can do. I just hope at some point one person in my life will stop ignoring my pleas for help, and will notice me, save me and give me a reason to live again. I really don’t want to right now.

 

 

 

Tried But Failed.

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

 

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

^ ^ ^

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

 

 

A Black Day.

*Depressing post, mentions suicide. Bad language also*

 

 

Today’s a black day. A sickeningly lonely day. A day of remembering. A day I’m paralysed by life. A day I can barely move for the bleakness in my mind. Although I’ve been pretty motionless today, it intensely contrasts the state of my mind today. It’s a very loud kind of day…. too much to think / feel and no way of releasing it…

 

So here I am yet again, speaking into the void of the internet… feeling as flat as a pancake. Sitting in the dark, having barely moved all day…. not seen anyone all day. Here I am writing stuff that could never save my life, as it’s all so disconnected from the people in my life who I need to care. Nothing can change the way things are.

 

I cannot have my best friend back. I will never understand what the hell I did to deserve to be ditched in such a callous way. I will never forgive it. I will never recover from it. I will never get through what I’m now going through, because of it.

 

I will never get over losing Liv. Not being able to talk to her ever again in my life. Knowing that she’s gone for good. That I should’ve known and done something. I never got to see her again. I’ll never be able to say all the words I should’ve said, and I’ll never understand what happened and why.

 

I have nothing left.

 

The loss I feel is too intense. Over ten years ago I was starting to come out of my shell. I went from having no friends or connections, to feeling accepted by people. I was doing DBT, I had three individual friends, then a group of people…. I was finding confidence… I even did karaoke during one strange phase of my twenties…. wine was needed though. But I belonged. I felt normal. Men were occasionally attracted to me. They were pretty much all jerks who only wanted one thing from every girl, but this also made me feel better about myself to start with.

 

2012 all of that changed overnight….. I went from having a social life to virtually nothing…. most of my friends hurt me. The guy I liked hurt me. I lost everyone but my best friend.

 

Life changed. No more social life. No more getting out meeting people or building confidence. My life became about my best friend and her impending child… the blessing… the one thing that kept me alive through that awful time of betrayal and loss. Life then became about her and her family… I became Godmother to her two lovely children. They were everything to me. Life was different though… it took a lot of adjusting to.

 

One of my old friends reared her ugly head in 2016, driving a wedge and thread of doubt between me and my best friend. And then my granddad got ill and passed away eight months later. I almost lost another family member to a heart attack in that time. Life became so real seemingly overnight. Until then I never believed I’d lose anyone in that way. Suddenly life was a waiting room… waiting for the next person to die. It was a scary, dangerous and uncertain world….. I needed certainty and stability around me in the form of friendship. I didn’t have this.

 

Last year my friend was so absent from my life. I could literally feel the abandonment in every cell of my body. I was right to feel that way. Voicing my fears only sped up the process… that’s the most sickening part. Due to grief and mental illness I made mistakes. I wasn’t in control of my thoughts or actions. It was terrifying. She held it against me. We fell out. I  extended an olive branch at Christmas but was totally snubbed.

 

This year she wouldn’t make up her mind if she wanted to try and save our friendship or not…. I deserved better than that. In the end I had to make a decision for the sake of my mental health and paranoia. I had to take a step back by unfriending her on Facebook – that way she was free to write what she wanted and it wouldn’t affect our friendship or my mental health. I never got to unfriend her. I told her my intention and the reasons and she immediately blocked me. She blocked any way of me ever reconnecting with her. She made it so I couldn’t message her or re-add her when I feel better (which I never will now). She made it permanent. She made it perfectly clear that she wants nothing more to do with me and never wants to hear from me again. She moved house without telling me a thing about it. I found out through someone else on Facebook.

 

My bond with my Godchildren is broken now, forever…. you can’t get back two years, not at that age. They won’t remember me. But I have to live in this world for the rest of my life having lost them. And I fucking hate my ‘friend’ for doing that to me, at a time I’m grieving my first loss and also the loss of my only other friend to suicide. It’s unforgivable. I cannot live life now because of this. It’s too much loss. I have nothing left.

 

The pain I feel in my heart, thinking about the early days with my God-daughter…. holding her for the first time at a few days old…. seeing her smile at me for the first time…. her learning to walk…. her trying to say my name…. to having actual conversations with her. The bond we had…. it’s gone, forever…. all I have now are photos and videos – and they just break my heart now. My friend would never appreciate this, but losing them was the closest thing to losing my own children. I may never have kids… especially if I’m right that I won’t even be alive in a year… but I loved them like they were family. So to have them ripped away from me, because of some unknown issue between their mother and me – something I don’t even fucking understand myself, it’s not fair. It’s not right. And I violently hate that woman right now. She has destroyed any remnants of my life.

 

I have had identity issues throughout my life, as part of my illness… I’ve gone from being a loner, to having a social life, to not having a social life but having the responsibility of my best friend’s kids, to losing them all – at a time I’m experiencing the most traumatic loss and grief I’ve ever known. I’m left with no friends or support. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m nobody. I’m nothing.

 

I had this last year… I expressed to my friend that I had lost ‘fun Lily’… I didn’t know how to be ‘fun Lily’ for the kids anymore – because I hadn’t seen them for six months at that point. I felt I wasn’t good enough to be around them if I couldn’t pretend to be okay, which I seriously wasn’t okay…. The remedy would’ve been my friend saying they’d love me whatever, and helping me to find that part of my identity again. She didn’t. She did the opposite. She took it as me not wanting to see them anymore. And she didn’t see me either. So I ended up misunderstood and isolated. Forgotten. Neglected. Abandoned. I kept losing more and more of my identity as a result. Now everything I had is gone I feel there’s nothing left of me. I have nobody to remind me of who I am either.

 

Living with BPD without a support network is fucking impossible. I can’t do it. I want to scream right now. I close my eyes and see violence. I see myself raging inside – smashing things up… tearing my skin off and that of others…. deafening the world with the pain I feel…. I want to make the whole world know how far from okay I am. I contain it most of the time. I wish I didn’t. It’s hell.

 

Nobody talks to me. Nobody replies to me. I don’t exist. Life is awful. I feel too much pain. I don’t want to carry on. Nothing changes. Yet everything has changed. I’ve lost everything. And no amount of talking about it will change that or make anyone else pay attention or care about me. They just don’t and never will.

 

I’m hanging on now, just waiting to see if the Wellbeing Centre will be able to help me. That’s all I’m living for right now.

 

I even give up on ‘Brexit’ now. I hoped I would get to see how it turns out… that I’d still be alive to see us leave the EU. I don’t think I can hold on that many years. If it’s overturned I’ll be going anyway, as it’ll show just how irrelevant I am. But even focusing on Brexit doesn’t help anymore. I’ve got to the point I feel none of it matters…. nothing matters, as I won’t be around much longer. I’m just weary of everything. Nothing feels right.  I want everything to stop.

 

Even when I was on holiday I thought about walking out to sea…. I didn’t want to come home to the reality of life. I’m hanging on but I have nothing to hang on for. My life is empty. The way my ‘best friend’ treated me has left me hating myself, hating her, feeling powerless and frustrated. I have no way to let that out other than to blog or self-harm. This is my existence now. I’ve been using stars on a calendar to mark days I don’t self-harm. I’m good in that there’s only been one day this month, so far, where I haven’t earnt a star. The trouble is I struggle so much with the level of despair and sadness I feel today – that’s harder to cope with than just anger….. it’s an incapacitating emotion and usually leads to me feeling suicidal. Anger can be released and let go of…. this state of mind can’t.

 

Days like today I wish ‘happy pills’ existed…. nothing else would lift my mood right now. In the past with friends I’ve lost, my ‘revenge’ would be me moving on and forgetting them – but I always had other friends to move on with and was able to forget and find happiness. This was my best friend…. my only real friend and she turned her back on me, for reasons I don’t understand at all…. Liv is gone… I have no other friends. It’s impossible to put on a front and get my revenge by moving on. I can’t move on. I have nothing to move on to… nowhere to turn and nothing to survive for. I’m too ill to move on. I want revenge. I hate that I want revenge. I’m not a nasty person. But I’m fucking hurt, and I don’t understand why this all happened. It’s not okay and I have no way of moving on or communicating with her or anything. I’m fucking stuck, and she knows that. That’s why it’s so vindictive of her to cut me out like that. She knows what it would do to me. And she didn’t give a fuck. So I no longer give a fuck about her. I want to move on and be happy and for her to regret losing me but that can never happen. So I have to go for hating her at this point. My only other options for myself when I close my eyes are extremely graphic and disturbingly violent ones.

 

I just wish I could take a pill and forget everything and everyone I’ve known and lost. A pill that makes me happy, and makes me able to trust people therefore form new friendships. I wish I had friends. I cannot survive without any. I used to be in this state, but having had years of friendships and support, and a sense of belonging, I cannot go back to this level of isolation…. too much has happened in my life for me to be able to survive without friends. But any friends I had either hurt me, ghosted me or died. I can’t take anymore pain or loss. I can’t trust anyone. I don’t believe I’m even likeable anymore let alone lovable. And life is loss… therefore life is pain. I can’t face that pain alone. So how am I meant to live in this world?

 

 

 

 

Unstable.

*Suicide theme*

 

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

 

 

The Unfairness Of Life.

*Swearing near the end*

 

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

 

 

100% Done.

*Self-harm reference*

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s just me now. Me and my blog.

 

 

 

 

Forget ’13’… My Endless Reasons Why.

All Truths Revealed

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

 

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

 

 

Unbearable Pain & Depression.

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

 

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

 

Nothing Left.

*Suicidal feelings*

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

Just An Update.

 

 

Just needed to update my blog with what’s been going on and where I am.

 

I’ve done just over 19 of my 50 miles. It still feels a long way to go. I thought it would be easier than this. It could be just unfortunate that it coincides with stopping chocolate and cutting down my medication…. that’s all kicking in more now.

 

I went for my walk today and felt so anxious. I had to stand at the front door psyching myself up to open it. And when I was out I felt on edge. The last couple of walks, noises have made me jump and feel panicky – the other day it was when three motorbikes went by – they were so noisy I felt scared and had to dig my nails into my hand to calm down. For the first half of today’s walk at least, I felt as though I was being followed. It kept sounding like there was someone behind me. On a couple of occasions people were there. I let them pass as I didn’t feel safe. I felt so self-conscious and really didn’t want to be outside the house. I don’t know if this anxiety is caused by withdrawal, or what.

 

I’m starting to wonder why I’m doing this walking thing… I know it’s helping me get fitter and feel more positive. But that’s not the point. I’m meant to be raising money for Parkinson’s UK, and other than closest family I have no other sponsors and don’t expect I will. I’ve loosely asked around, but I don’t know many people anymore. It’s hard to ask them to sponsor me. It’s getting me down a bit, especially at the moment, as it was also in memory of my granddad. So having raised nothing feels like a failure. It feels like people not valuing him or my love for him. And it hurts right now as I’m just a few days away from the second anniversary of the loss of him.

 

Last year I reached out, hoping to have the support and care of friends for the first anniversary. One person said something. Nobody else. This year I won’t make a big deal out of it. It’s setting myself up for even more rejection and neglect. This time last year was where my mental health deteriorated rapidly… the splitting and paranoia kicked in. That sealed the fate with my former friend.

 

That’s weighing on my mind a lot right now. I attempted something recently in the hope of finding peace as I moved on. I don’t think it’s really done any good. I’m still blocked. I’m still angry. I don’t believe the story I’ve heard. I still believe it was vindictive. I still believe they meant me harm. My paranoia is alive and kicking. There’s only one way it would ever be resolved… the friend realising how their actions have hurt me, undoing it and making up for it with the same effort I tried with them. Direct communication. And taking responsibility. That’s one thing that I’m unhappy about now – the inference that I’m somehow to blame for tensions between them and other people. No. If they argue with other people as a result of messing things up with me then that’s their fault, not mine. I take no responsibility for how they interact with others as a result of their inability / refusal to interact with me. I’m angry. I’m anxious about the whole situation and I wish I’d left it alone. I got upset about it today… about how they turned into this person. I never thought they’d treat me the way they have. It’s hard to accept.

 

Another thing is I still have such a problem with self-harm. People would probably assume I’m doing better now and therefore not doing it. They’re wrong. Yes I’m forcing myself to do my volunteering. Yes I’m forcing myself to go walking most days. Yes my diet is different, I’m coming off my medication and I’m finally taking some vitamins! All positive steps. But I still self-harm. Even when I have no reason to. Even on the ‘good’ days.

 

Because self-harm can be like that. It is like an addiction. Sometimes it’s all my mind can think about…. when can I next hurt myself and how? I don’t know why I’m doing it and why I don’t want to stop.

 

I feel all the old shame again. Because I’m trying to hide the fact I’m always doing it. I reckon people think I’m better than I am. I already know the people at work don’t understand and think self-harm is a one-off thing. So if they were to see the bandages on my arms they’d be like ‘Have you done it again?’ Well yes…. of course I have. It’s an ongoing problem. It doesn’t just happen once and then you get over it. If only.

 

No matter how hard I’m trying to pick myself up and push myself forward, I still can’t stop hurting myself. I’m even worried that family won’t understand that I’m still doing it, even when I seem okay. So I hide it. I know nobody would understand this mentality. I keep saying to myself it’s mental illness. It doesn’t have to make sense. It’s an illness, in that it’s something that’s got a hold of my mind and drives me to do what I do… to need it… to want it and to think I deserve it. But it feels like weak excuses. Nobody would understand unless they also know that feeling, having been there themselves.

 

In better news, I had a great night at the theatre last night, just as I had a good time at a gig last month. I’m halfway through the good things I booked up for this year to keep me going. They are so anxiety-provoking but I’m trying to learn to have good experiences again, and trust that things don’t always end badly. I’ll be honest I’m a bit scared of what happens after June…. once I’ve got through them all and there’s nothing left to aim for. It is playing on my mind a bit. Nothing to hold on for. Hopefully by then I might get some community support…. I’ll be contacting the Wellbeing Centre and Recovery College this week to see if they’ll help me. As much as I’m trying to help myself, my mind is still sick, so I know I still need the help.

 

Friend-wise, I’m all over the place. I’m extremely doubtful of anyone’s intentions to be my friend. I don’t think anyone truly wants me in their life. I’ll talk with people about meeting up and it never materialises. And as much as I could just suggest it to them again, as maybe they feel they’re annoying me by asking me again, it’s not what I’m able to do at the moment. At this point I actually need others to take the lead and invite me on a particular day, or tell me what we’re doing and when (as long as I’m free). I hate to admit this as it probably makes me sound needy and demanding, but I’m not going to initiate anything with anyone at the moment…. for two reasons…. first because I’ve been made to feel a burden, unwanted, uncared for and invisible for so long that I’d rather stay in my quiet little world of loneliness than to bother others and risk any more rejection. But secondly because I am scared. I’m scared of getting the ball rolling and people expecting too much from me. I’m scared they’ll do what someone else did with me last year, and keep messaging me before I can reply… I’ll then get overwhelmed having to respond to so much, and put it off…. and then I’ll apologise for taking so long and be made to feel shit for it. Which then makes me pull away as I think I’m such a rubbish friend and people deserve better than me. It’s true, they do. But I really struggle with interaction at the moment. I struggle with small talk. Got something to discuss? Great, go for it. Got a question? Ask it. Need my help and support? I’d be only too willing to help. I’d be thrilled that you asked me. But idle chit-chat I just can’t do. Just talking for the sake of talking…. and I know it’s what you do in a friendship, but right now I don’t have it in me, and I don’t want to hurt anyone by not replying. If I’m honest, as much as I post online, I’m in isolation mode again. Thinking nobody cares about me. I feel lonely not having a close friend anymore.

 

But I have someone in my life whose close friend has sadly passed away recently. A part of me feels I lost my friend at the time I did, to be able to sympathise on some level with this other person. It’s a different sort of loss, but we both have nobody close anymore. So I can imagine what she’s lost and how it might feel. I’m trying to see that things happen for a reason. It doesn’t mean it’s good that these things happen. But you can create meaning out of most things in life. You can turn a negative into a positive… even if it’s just using your awful experiences to help others who are going through the same thing.

 

I’m trying to be positive. It’s a little harder right now to do that. But it is a particularly difficult time for me at the moment and there’s a lot going on. I hope I can keep going as I have been and that things get easier. I feel like I’m paddling at the moment…. I’m not quite sure whether I’m getting anywhere or not…

 

Anyway, that’s just a round-up of what’s been happening. Hope everyone’s well.

 

xxxx

What’s Real??

 

What's Real_

 

*Self-harm mentioned*

 

 

Struggling so much at the moment. People probably wouldn’t know this. I’m not really opening up about it as much. I’m battling with my own mind.

 

I’m paranoid that the mental health services are fobbing me off. Despite what they said at the assessment, that they’re not doing that, and that I could access DBT in the future, just not right away – that I have to follow the ‘pathway’ by doing the Wellbeing Centre first…. I can’t help feeling they’re lying to me.

 

I was told they won’t diagnose BPD and that I don’t need a diagnosis. Then how come so many people ARE getting diagnosed with it? And are on waiting lists for DBT and yet I have to start at the bottom? Is it because I’ve done it before in the past? Does everyone have to follow this pathway? Or is it just me, being told something different to everyone else, as usual?

 

This isn’t helping my paranoia. I can’t let go of this feeling like they’re lying to me just so they don’t have to help me. Look, they got out of having to do so…. I’m off of their caseload already, after one assessment. I’ve been directed elsewhere…. yes, it could be because that’s the pathway… I have to try this other thing first…. but I cannot shake the feeling they are telling me that to get out of helping me….

 

And that they’re telling me they won’t diagnose what’s wrong with me, and that I don’t need that diagnosis, because they know that once I have that diagnosis, they will have to offer me more intensive help. Not diagnosing it means they aren’t expected to do anything. This might not be the case, but I have paranoia about everything in my life right now. And when I see other people seeing psychiatrists, and getting diagnosed and I’m being told the opposite and directed elsewhere, I can’t help but feel angry, resentful and rejected…. like they’re picking on me ….. like they don’t want to help. Nobody wants to help.

 

Having read the assessment letter I feel they minimised everything – the self-harm… saying it was ‘minor’ – how do they know?? They didn’t see it… they didn’t ask….. ‘minor bruises’ – actually I’ve still got great big lumps (hematomas) left on my arm from two months ago! I’ve deformed parts of my hands, and I’ve possibly even fractured things along the way but haven’t sought treatment for any of it…. I don’t personally think that’s ‘minor’. Do you?? It’s like when they say your cuts are ‘superficial’. This does SO much damage. My response to reading ‘minor bruises’, was to violently attack myself again, saying ‘I’ll show you ‘minor bruises’!’ … it’s as if they’re saying it’s not bad enough to warrant help or to be taken seriously…. it makes you do it worse. It’s like with the cutting – that’s not ‘superficial’. If I’m bruising tendons and having to steri-strip my wounds then I don’t think that’s superficial. The language around self-harm has to change. I will write separately about this soon.

 

But I felt like they tried to paint a better picture of me, to present at the team meeting, than was true. My eye contact was good because I couldn’t understand what he was saying…. his accent was too strong, that I had to look at his face to lip-read. I may look better than I am and relate well to people, because a part of my problem is I don’t let anyone see my reality. I always try and be nice, polite and friendly to everyone. I’m the girl who had her BCG injection at school, got up afterwards and said ‘thank you very much’ for God’s sake! How I appear has nothing to do with how I am and what I’m experiencing. I won’t go outside the house without putting my make-up on or doing my hair. Yes, I did that for my assessment. But it overlooks the fact that 90% of the time I don’t even go outside the house, so do not bother with these things.

 

I may look better than I am and relate well to people, because a part of my problem is I don't let anyone see my reality. I always try and be nice, polite and friendly to everyone. I'm the girl who

 

He said I was present etc. – but what about when I told him that I didn’t feel I was really there…..? That it didn’t feel real…. I felt disconnected from everything. I said that. He also obviously didn’t notice me digging my nails into my hand. He didn’t mention the fact I burst into tears, which he robotically ignored at the time… distressing me further.

 

Yes, towards the end of the assessment I felt we understood each other more and I started to relax a bit. I helped him with trying to get the printer to work…. I may have even laughed a little. Is this the snapshot he took, to report to everyone else? Overlooking the rest of it? That seems unfair to me. I’m a people-pleaser. I don’t like to make others uncomfortable.

 

I felt he played down the self-harm and the suicidal feelings. Why do people do that? Every single time in the past, when I’ve been asked whether I would act on my feelings I have, I’ve said no…. because I’m a people-pleaser! And I was scared of their reactions. This one time I was prepared to be honest and say ‘I don’t honestly know if I would act on it or not anymore…. because I don’t feel as in control of myself as I used to…’ and I don’t feel that opportunity came up…. so I don’t feel they had the full picture when making the decision….

 

But would the decision have been the same regardless? Were they always going to turn me away?

 

And it comes back to… would I have been given more help there and then if I had the diagnosis? To be honest I don’t feel that ‘BPD’ is my only diagnosis…. I feel more and more in recent times, that perhaps C-PTSD fits my life. I would have liked them to look at that side of things…. to understand that everything is traumatising me…. and it feels like a great mountain of pain, loss and trauma that I can’t get over… it just gets higher and higher with each hurtful or difficult event in my life. When I talked to him about what I had experienced in the past he said they didn’t want to know about that – that they wanted to know what my problems were in the here and now….. this is what made me upset in the assessment – they were invalidating my experience and my feelings….. they were saying my past is gone, it isn’t important. But the fact is that my past is why I am in such distress in the present. I needed them to help me with that. I’m not sure they will. I’m not sure anyone will. Even the IAPT service made it clear they deal with the here and now, not the past – WELL WHO THE FUCK CAN HELP ME WITH THE TRAUMA OF MY PAST???? If people keep telling me the past is not the issue, then soon I’m going to kill myself. Because it proves nobody understands what I’m going through. If nobody will help me heal the past then how the hell am I ever to have a future?

 

I wanted help with that. I wanted help with the paranoia too… but I feel that was glossed over. It’s a huge problem for me. It’s new. I don’t know how to cope with it. And as you can see, it’s now causing huge problems for me with mental health services too. I feel stranded at sea to be honest. And feel sick from all the waves of uncertainty and doubt.

 

I also have to make a personal decision soon too… and I’m struggling to do so, as I’m splitting and paranoid with that situation too…. I have nobody to discuss it with. So I can’t make a decision based on facts. I have to base it on how I feel. But my feelings are not centred in reality necessarily…. I don’t know what’s true and what is paranoia. So how do I decide? I also don’t feel it’s my place to decide…. the whole point is I want someone else to make the choice for me…. I need them to take the initiative… be pro-active… choose me and make the effort. I have to know they’re willing to do the things that are needed. But I’m seeing doubt and inaction. I know they may not know what to do, but it feels odd that I have to tell them. I feel I’m in this friendship alone… playing both parts. It’s crazy. And given that things are so unreal and uncertain for me at the moment anyway, it’s frustrating to have to convince someone to make an effort for me when it should be forthcoming.

 

Things are uncertain in every way right now. My mental health feels out of control. With the paranoia, splitting … and then the CMHT stuff and the friendship stuff too…. All of this and life generally feels too uncertain, unstable and unsafe since I lost my granddad two years ago. My grief was delayed. This is how it has manifested. Nothing feels the same anymore. I’m struggling to cope with this new reality. It’s not reality to me yet. Nothing feels real. So having to cope with anything extra is very hard to do. Making choices with friends…. knowing what’s right about mental health services…. being attacked online last year so many times, and then by a friend too after it all… it’s broken me. I’m struggling to adapt to life after loss… I’m paranoid…. I don’t feel safe in this world… and I need people to be supportive, caring and to make me feel safe and secure. I shouldn’t be sat here, having to decide whether someone can do that for me or not…. I should see it in their actions and their words…. I should be given these things without asking for them…. so I’m beginning to think I have my answer…. but then I come right back around to paranoia…. am I assuming things because of my illness? And then straight back to – ‘but if they wanted me in their life they would make the effort on their own’….

 

I am fighting between my head and my heart…. between reality and paranoia…. I don’t know what to do about anything …  and it’s making me sick.

 

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I have moments where I feel more positive about things, but they’re so fleeting….. before I know it I’m self-harming and a ball of anxiety about life. I do feel alone at the moment. Even if I do occasionally talk to other people… I feel isolated and like I have to cope with what I’m experiencing all on my own. And when people misunderstand you and you doubt your own mind, that makes it all the more isolating…. Being stranded and isolated in a world that doesn’t feel safe or stable anymore = dangerous. But what more can I really do…?