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.