Trigger Upon Trigger.

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

 

18th February 2020

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

…

 

19th February 2020

 

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

 

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

 

“Hi X. If you’ve read what I wrote, then I hope you can understand just how difficult it was for me to ask to have that final conversation at the end. I feared that rejection I got.

I understand you felt you couldn’t and I know you said I could talk to someone else but you guys were the only ones I trusted. I don’t want to talk to anyone else about this anymore. I only needed 5 mins to explain a couple of things associated with what I wrote. After nearly 3 weeks of sheer hell I just needed a minute to feel heard & to relieve the anxiety I felt, all alone for the longest fortnight of my life. It’s all I would’ve needed. Being denied that was like being denied what I asked from Z… it replicated the very thing I needed to tell you about. Z made me feel worthless… like a number … a burden. Yesterday confirmed that for me. And again I’m sorry I took up so much of your time and made you late that one time. I felt awful about it. Now I pay the price for that.

So yes, I’m extra triggered now and have to get through at least another week of feeling even worse than the last 3… knowing there will be no relief because I’m never opening up again. That was to be the last time. Once I handed the writing over that was it… no more talking. So I had no closure. Everything’s a giant mess. And I don’t know the way out of it anymore.”

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

(To be continued…)

 

Progress.

*This is a positive post but I do talk about self-harm and you may find it triggering, so please don’t read if you’re feeling vulnerable*

 

 

I feel in a different mindset today. I had a moment yesterday when I realised my energy has been focused on the wrong things… I’ve been trying to give a voice to all the painful emotions I feel, by explaining what’s gone on, defending myself, expressing my anger and my hurt and thinking about how to ‘fix’ things that are broken in my life.

I finally realised all of that energy is being wasted… I should have been focusing on giving myself the things I wanted others to give me. I need to be a friend to myself… I need to forgive myself… I need self-compassion… I need to apologise to myself and comfort myself…. reassure myself and build myself back up.

I have also decided to try and stop self-harming. It has become such a problem recently that I have hurt myself every single day, at least once, mainly by hitting myself with an instrument. I found myself in a situation where I have cut myself so much in one area, that my skin isn’t behaving normally anymore, so I am unable to tell how deep I am actually going. It always looks like I’ve not gone as deep as usual, so I keep going, not realising I’ve gone deeper than usual – I now realise how dangerous it is … and it was only a few days back that I hit something… I don’t know what, but I felt a different sensation and it freaked me out. I would hazard a guess I nicked a tendon. The problem is I cannot tell. I have bruised a tendon in my arm twice in my life… both within the last year or so…. I know what it feels like…. but where I’ve been hitting myself, sometimes in that area, I now don’t know if I’ve damaged the tendon by cutting, or if it’s just bruising from hitting. So in a way that contributed to me feeling something has to change. I have to let that arm heal so I can tell what damage exists. I’ve not given it a moment to heal. I’ve felt like I have to be in constant physical pain, partly because I felt like I deserved it, but also because it felt better than feeling how I did emotionally. It’s been hell.

I’ve been so focused on what I’ve lost, that I have overlooked what I have. I have had people be so kind to me recently… caring, supportive, encouraging and showing me the love I’ve wanted from others. I’m going to take all their kindness, pair it with self-compassion, and I’m going to write…. every time I feel angry, upset, or feel like hurting myself, I’m going to write a compassionate letter to myself (first one will come in the next day or two) – I may share them here… I might not. But I’m not going to let what’s happened destroy me. I have allowed it to… especially in the last six months… but not anymore.

A lot of my anger has been about how unjust a situation has been for me. It’s anger that I’ve not been treated right. Instead of focusing all that anger at those not treating me right, I want to try and transform it into treating myself right. Stop chasing them for things I fail to give myself. I don’t need them to see my worth in order to see it myself. I want to try and fix what they’ve broken in me.

It’s a long road ahead. I know stopping self-harm won’t happen overnight. I’ve managed to get through today without any at all, although I had a couple of urges. It will be hard. But for months I’ve not even contemplated stopping. I wanted to keep going. I didn’t care. So it’s a major step to even think I need to stop. I just know I need help.

I have my assessment with the CMHT this week. I don’t expect much to come from it, but you never know. Otherwise I’m just taking things a day at a time. If I slip up then so be it. At least I’m facing the right direction at last, even if I have quite a few large steps yet to take, to get to where I’m going.

I’m facing away from what has hurt me and towards a better future. I didn’t deserve the things that happened in the last year. I know that. This is where I make a change. This is where I stop giving my energy away and turn negatives into positives and keep it for myself, and for those who love me on even my darkest days. They mean more to me than they will ever understand.

xxxx

 

 

 

This Year….

 

How do I begin to explain how awful this year has been? From start to finish it has been an uphill struggle. I end this year worse than I started it, and that’s saying something. This time last year I was about to face my first Christmas without my granddad here. I had finished my therapy course where I had a breakdown and my mental health had got worse. I was trying to pick up the pieces of my life and get through a difficult time. I thought if I could get through that the worst would be behind me. Boy was I wrong….

This year I have had so much shit thrown at me from so many different angles…. from strangers… from friends.

I have experienced paranoia, splitting and what feels like the longest, most drawn-out mental breakdown. Things started going downhill in about February / March… it was the lead-up to the first anniversary of my loss. There was nobody around for me…. no sympathy…. no care…. no support. That’s when I started splitting on everyone and isolated myself. Over time I started to feel disconnected from everything and everyone…. detached from reality… the paranoia crept in and kept getting worse. I have struggled with my grief this year too. I reached the ‘depression’ stage of grief, and I’ve never come out of it.

The world is different now. I see life through a different lens. Everything is darker, flatter, heavier…. nothing feels ‘real’ anymore… not outside these four walls anyway. I don’t feel safe, secure or certain of anything. Life is pain. Just waiting for death. It’s very hard for someone who hasn’t faced a loss like that before to adjust to this new life … and I’ve had to do it alone.

Not only have I had to face it alone, I have had so many heartless people make it so much harder, by throwing their shit at me. I’ve faced more shit this year than I can remember getting any other year. I don’t know if it’s just because I can’t cope with it so well this year, or if there really have been that many more people causing problems for me.

I had a ‘trauma therapist’ (who I didn’t know) deliberately trigger and humiliate me on social media… I had an American ‘Democrat’ attack me for defending those with BPD, from her harmful misinformation where she linked BPD and Trump. I had the people who labelled me as a troll, stupid and a racist, for making a very rational, fair and non-racist point on my own timeline. I had someone stalking my posts because I disagreed with our MP.

I’ve had people thinking I was getting at them and making me feel awkward and disliked by other people, which contributed heavily to me isolating myself. I’ve had people turn their backs on me, who I never thought would. I’ve had people misinterpret everything I’ve said and paint me as a villain. I’ve had them mischaracterise me. I feel I’ve spent most of this year having to explain myself, defend myself and apologise for being ill. I shouldn’t have to do this. I’ve had people kick me when they know how suicidally down I’ve been. I’ve had people hurt me, and double down on that when I’ve brought it to their attention, rather than admit mistakes and apologise…. I’ve been compassionate, forgiving and had none in return. I’ve just had aggression, blame and punishment from them.

People who I thought would be friends forever have treated me the worst… but through it all I’ve discovered those who treat me with the care and respect I deserve. Those who know how to talk to someone this ill and grieving. People who see good in me and tell me. People who don’t think I don’t deserve them. I’m thankful to those people for not holding my illness against me, as some have.

This year has changed me. There may be some good aspects to that, but mainly it’s changed me for the worse.

I cannot stop hurting myself anymore. Whenever I’m left alone in the house I bruise myself… sometimes three times a day, over and over again. The urge is constantly there, so as soon as an opportunity arises I do it. I’ve managed to cut down on cutting recently… that had become a twice-weekly sort of thing at the least. Not done it for a while… the hitting has taken over. The only reason I may seem ‘better’ at the moment has been me focusing on Christmas. I know as soon as it’s over I’ll revert back to how things were before.

I have felt so suicidal this year. For the first nine months of this year at least, every single day I would want to kill myself. I would obsess over how to do it. Just over a month ago I had to phone the Samaritans because I couldn’t stop hurting myself and I just wanted to die. It’s really saying something if I phone the Samaritans, because I do not like using the phone. I had no other choice… it was 1am, I didn’t know what else to do.

My hair-pulling got a lot worse this year… I developed a bald patch on my head…. it grew back….. I got another patch….. it’s an ongoing battle.

I’ve closed down from people. I’ve shut myself away – I’ve hardly left the house most of the year, especially the second half of it. I stopped volunteering. I only went out in the car with family most of the time. But the majority of my time has been indoors at home. I’ve missed so much of the year. That’s why it’s shocking that it’s Christmas now…. I missed Summer and Autumn, so it’s suddenly Christmas and it doesn’t feel like it should be.

I went to the doctor several times as my only source of support for my mental health. She referred me to the CMHT, who rejected my referral without even speaking to me. That was difficult to deal with. She re-referred me and this time they’re going to assess me in January. I don’t expect they’ll offer me help, but at least it’s something. I’ve had to battle through the last year alone. No professional help. No friends.

I haven’t enjoyed things lately. I don’t feel I can anymore. ‘Fun’ events I’ve been to have either felt flat or totally ruined by my state of mind and the way I relate to the world around me. It makes me fear for all the good stuff I have planned for next year. In June next year I’m finally fulfilling one of my dreams I had when I was younger – to be front row for my favourite band….. I only hope I can survive until then. But more than that I want to feel better … I want to enjoy it. If it’s anything like this year has been I will not enjoy it at all. I don’t know if this has been as a result of my illness, grief, or how I’ve been treated by others…. or a combination of all three.

I cannot believe that at a time when I’ve struggled with my mental health and with grief, some people who are supposed to care about me have treated me the way they have. Those people online are strangers – they don’t know a thing about me or my life. They don’t matter. But those who do, and have chosen to be less than compassionate and sensitive, I really don’t understand how they could do that to me. I’m not sure how I can ever forget what they’ve done. But I have to focus on those who have been there for me. Those who have treated me kindly. Those who understand my illness and know how to talk to someone in despair. That will be my focus in 2019…. to focus on the good and put the bad in my past. And hopefully to try and separate the past from the present, which is something I’ve been unable to do this year.

This year has taught me what I deserve… although I feel so utterly shit about myself and think I deserve pain – that’s why I keep hurting myself – I know deep down that I do not deserve the shit people have thrown at me. I know that nobody deserves to be spoken to how I have been this year, not when they’re suffering with their mental health and adjusting to a world after loss. It has taught me not to accept that from anyone anymore, and that I need to stand up and say no to that sort of treatment. If it means losing a person as a result, so be it. They don’t deserve me. Those who care about me wouldn’t want to hurt me, and wouldn’t drive my self-worth down… they’d lift me up, tell me the good things about me and what I deserve and they’d strive to make me feel better. If they can’t do that then they’d at least not make me feel worse.

This year has opened my eyes to things I hadn’t noticed before. And particularly circumstances this Christmas have decided what I need to do to get better. It’s time for a change. I deserve better than this. That’s the note I want to finish this year on. I deserve better. If there’s nothing else I can say about this year, then it’s that. I see that as a positive, to even recognise that I deserve more from people. After the year I’ve had and how I’ve felt towards myself, it’s nice to point it in the right direction and to stop blaming myself. This has been hell  and whilst I know it will take at least as long to get out of it, as it took to find myself in this hell, at least I’m starting to recognise the good in me again. I’m remembering who I am in my heart. The words and actions of others have helped me to see it… to see I’m not what they think I am. So to all those who hurt me this year…. thank you. You may have broken me, but you’ve also allowed me to recognise my own worth, and that in a world where friends can turn their back on you at the drop of a hat, I need to be my own best friend.

A peaceful Christmas to everyone. May 2019 be a better year for us all…. it has to be, surely….

xxxx

 

Mental Illness Is A Thief.

I once wrote a list of positives about myself…. I have that list in front of me… I don’t remember when I wrote it, but I can only assume I was in a better state of mind, as I’d find it hard to say many good things about myself at the moment.

Here’s what I wrote:

 

• I am sensitive to the feelings of others.
• I have a good heart.
• I am approachable.
• I am honest and trustworthy.
• I am protective of those I care about.
• I am creative.
• I have a good sense of humour.
• I am respectful to people and animals and the world alike.
• I have good morals.
• I don’t let people down.
• I say what I mean and I mean what I say.
• Even if I sometimes doubt it, I am mentally strong – I’m still standing.
• I like my own company.
• I don’t need anyone else to complete me.
• I enjoy the freedom of being alone.
• I am a reserved person. I save my best for those who earn it.
• I take the time to care about others.
• I am polite.
• I am capable of learning.
• I am thoughtful.
• I am not too proud to apologise or ask for help.
• I am understanding.
• I am down-to-earth.
• I have good taste in music.
• I may not have much but I have a lot to offer.

 

 

 

Mental illness robs you of many of those things. It also robs you of the ability to see any good in you, even when it is still there. That’s when you need your friends to remind you of who you are. I had a friend say to me just yesterday some of the good things about me. I may not believe them all, but hearing it does help… if for no other reason than to know they don’t all hate me!

 

When I look at the list, there are some things I feel remain – good taste in music, creative, sense of humour – these tend to be a constant. Other things are subject to change… for instance I do let people down… I’m not that approachable anymore… I don’t always take the time to care about others… I’m not always understanding, though I try my best to understand the motives and feelings of others.

 

The reality is that when you’re ill certain parts of you close off. You can’t be the person you’ve always been, because you’re fighting a battle nobody else knows about. The worst thing that can happen is for someone to judge you on who you are as a result of mental ill health. It makes you think that’s who you are as a person.

 

I received a message from a friend the other day which threw into turmoil my image of myself. Those of us with BPD struggle with a sense of who we are at the best of times…. It made me feel like I’m a terrible person. It created chaos in me, because everything said to me was a misinterpretation and misunderstanding of me, my words and behaviour. So whilst I was showing certain positive qualities (in my mind at least!), they twisted it into me showing all the worst qualities they could think of. And the trouble with someone like me, is that others’ opinions of me become MY opinion of me. I think if one person thinks something, others must too, and therefore it must be true.

 

They may not have said the words, but the words they did say painted a picture of me as a selfish, controlling bitch. Instead of seeing me as someone in huge emotional pain, traumatised, mentally ill and doing the best I could to survive… alone, they warped the truth and made me the ‘bad guy’.

 

Part of me was furious with them and thought what a horrible person they are and how much I hate them. But the rest of me took it as a reflection of ME. If I’m not all the bad things my friend thinks I am, then I must at least come across that way, either because of my illness or because I don’t communicate my reality correctly.

 

They were upset with me for blogging about them, as they interpreted it in a negative way, not as intended. And they asked if I could understand how that would feel…. yes, I do understand. And my initial reaction was that I should blog about what an awful person I am. Even though my blog was not about attacking them, and was actually about explaining that my own mind (my illness) is the problem – therefore I was effectively taking the blame (even though mental illness is not my fault!) …. they interpreted it as me blaming them and painting them in a bad light. So to ‘even it up’, in their mind at least, I felt I should tell you all how damn awful I am…. even though I already know that, and I’m constantly putting myself down for having an illness! Here you go:

 

• I am a bad friend.
• I don’t deserve friendship, happiness or love.
• I’m too honest.
• I’m selfish.
• I’m messed up.
• I’m manipulative.
• I’m attention-seeking.
• I’m a bitch.
• I’m too demanding.
• I’m a Debbie Downer.
• I’m boring.
• I’m lazy.
• I’m a failure.
• I’m a bitter, angry, resentful person.
• I’m unforgiving.
• I’m immature.
• I’m clueless about real life and real problems.
• I’m nasty.
• I deserve pain.
• I don’t deserve to live.
• I’m hateful.
• I’m a drama-queen.
• I’m fat and ugly.
• I’m stupid.
• I’m an embarrassment to know.
• I’m a terrible person.

 

This is the list I feel my friend would want me to remind myself of. At a time when I need reminding of my good qualities, they only want to make me think bad things about myself. Even if it’s unintentional, the way they talk to me illustrates their opinions of me.

 

But I look at this list, and as much as it came to me a lot quicker and easier than a positive one ever could, deep down I know it’s not the truth. Some of it is. I am fat and ugly, I am too honest and at present I am rather hate-filled. But most other things are as a result of my illness. Some of them aren’t even true then – it would just be an opinion of someone uneducated. I appear selfish, manipulative, attention-seeking, lazy, a bitch and a drama-queen, because I have a mental illness that has taken over and is close to winning. But I am none of those things. I do know that.

 

Whilst I feel like a terrible person and at present I question my original list about the ‘having a good heart’, I know what my intentions are. A lot of people may think bad things about me and my motives. Just as my friend interpreted my blog as me attacking them, rather than explaining my illness to them, other people probably think I’m a certain type of person. If my friend thinks I’m selfish, heartless and controlling then I’d like to say this…..

 

You’re wrong. I have a heart and you bloody broke it. While I might not appear to care about others, I care about them sometimes more than I care about myself. I have a lot of compassion and empathy. It may not seem it, but I AM capable of putting myself in others’ shoes… something they seem unable to do with me. I try my best to understand others whilst they don’t even try to understand me and my illness. I am aware of people having their own lives and stresses – I’m not selfish… but being in distress can make me seem that way, like I’m ignorant to the existence of others’ lives. I worry about them and show concern for them, whilst they just attack me and make me feel like a burden. I take my time to consider my responses to people…. I don’t want to hurt people. People don’t seem to do the same for me. They all just react. I’m actually a very reasonable person, where others without my illness seem to be the unreasonable ones. I will apologise when I hurt people – none of them do it for me. Even if they’re the ones who owe me an apology, they just double down on the hurt or give a false apology, whereas I feel genuine guilt, shame and remorse and am genuinely sorry (and I’m the one with BPD!). I am thoughtful, considerate and to some degree kind. Even if people hurt me, I’ll still send cards, I’ll still send thoughts on anniversaries, I’ll still try my best not to let their bitterness towards me change who I am at my core. I still try my best to be gentle even when hurt. It’s difficult though.

 

So whilst people are out there thinking bad things about me, I am here, hurt by their low opinions of me…. their misunderstandings of me and who I really am. The only reason I appear to show more of the qualities from the second list than the first, is because I am unwell. I’ve always been unwell – I just used to be able to hide it better. I’d wear a mask for everyone, even my best friend. After my granddad died last year my mental health deteriorated, and after a breakdown at therapy a year ago I’ve lost control. With being abandoned and isolating myself this year it’s just got worse and worse, until I can no longer hide how I’m feeling. I can’t wear the mask. I suppose if you were a fan of using the words ‘high-functioning’ and ‘low-functioning’, I’ve always been high-functioning…. now not so much. Now I’m a lot lower-functioning and my illness is plain to see…. except to those who refuse to see it as an illness. They will just think I’ve become a bitch. Thank God for those who see it for what it is and still believe in me. Thank you to those people. ❤

 

I am many of those things on that first list… inside. I wish I could show them on the outside again, because where I don’t, people think I’ve changed – I haven’t. I just can’t express the good as loudly as the bad is screaming from me. It then makes people treat me differently, which makes my illness worse and makes me feel worse about myself.

 

It is SO important if you know someone with a mental illness, to never treat them differently because of their illness, or to blame them for how they are. How they appear to you may not be how they feel inside. You need to remind them of the good in them, because mental illness is a thief, and an illusionist… it plays tricks on the mind, whilst stealing the good. It’s not the fault of the person with the illness. We never asked to be ill, and we likely hate ourselves enough, without feeling you hate us too.

 

I may not like who I am right now. I may not be able to confidently state to the world who I am and make a list…. but I DO know who I am at my core. And when people try and misrepresent me it frustrates and upsets me. But they’re not my concern. Let them think what they like. I’ve lost people in the past because they chose to stick by their false opinions of me, rather than admitting they were wrong, or trying to understand my illness. I don’t say this in a big-headed way, as I don’t actually think much of myself currently, but… ‘It’s their loss’. If people want to lose me because of their inability to listen and understand my illness, and because of the qualities they lack, then so be it. I shouldn’t have to explain myself to them. They should know who I am.

 

I struggle enough to hold on to who I am. I don’t need people gaslighting me.

 

One day I hope to rediscover the good qualities in me… those I listed, and hopefully more. But right now I just have to exist with my reality and try not to hate myself any more than I already do. I know some very nice and wise people would say to cut myself some slack… to not be so hard on myself. They’re right. It’s not easy but I have to try and block out other people’s opinions of me and forgive myself for being too ill to be the true me. Hopefully it’ll return in time.

 

xxxx

Resignation.

*Contains all the usual*

 

I’ve lived the last couple of days in resignation. I’ve accepted nobody cares… not the people who I want to care. I’ve accepted life is insanely hard and painful and I just have to tolerate it. I’ve accepted I have to just put up with a lonely life and have no joy in any day. I’ve accepted I am here merely for others to use whenever necessary. I’ve accepted I’m a terrible person. I’ve accepted I’ll probably end my life at some point in the not too distant future.

 

The feeling of sickness faded away for a short time. Now it’s stirring again and I don’t know why. It’s like something inside me is fighting to exist… fighting to be heard… fighting to get what I want. And I hate that part of me, because it always leads me to feel physically ill and to be disappointed. I want to lose that part of me. Life was better when I realised I’m alone, I’m nothing, I’m a nasty, ugly failure who pushes everyone away. And that I’m going to be ashes sooner rather than later. Life was better then. I wasn’t fighting. I wasn’t chasing after people, longing for them to talk to me.

 

I hate where I got to last week…. begging for attention on my blog because nobody would talk to me. I wanted somebody, anybody to empathise with me and validate my feelings. I needed someone to be there. I tried on Facebook, Twitter and on here, and I was met with almost total silence. Do you know how it feels to have such intense and extensive rejection like that? To stomp all over your own dignity, reaching out, pleading for help and to not get any? Do you? Because I know that disgusting feeling too well. It was my life at school. There was no dignity. I may not have been begging for help, but I was begging for friends. I was begging to tag along with people at lunchtime, just so I wouldn’t have to endure my usual – standing by the wall all on my own, watching everyone else have fun. Ironic that this is what my life has come to…. me, standing alone having been rejected by everyone…. watching them all have fun and live their lives… me on the outskirts. Why can nobody understand how soul-destroying and agonising this is for me? It damaged my self-esteem at school and it’s doing it now. That’s why I’m done.

 

I’m thoroughly done with begging… chasing… it’s unfair that nobody gives me what I need willingly. And I hate everyone for it. I hate that people ditch the idea of meeting up with me and don’t speak to me again. I hate that I have to ask for support and care, and that the only time anyone notices enough to care, is when it’s too late and I’ve walked away. I hate that I live my life on my knees, in the dirt, just longing to fit in and be accepted and loved, and they all treat me as if I’m a fucking ghost. They treat me as though I’m already dead. Tells you how much I’ll be missed when I really am.

 

I’m fed up with normality. I’m fed up with my volunteering. I struggle with it. I put on a face… it’s getting harder to do. People irritate me. People ask about my bandage and what I’ve done to my arm – nothing mate, get used to it, it will be there long-term. If you’d rather see an arm covered in scars then fine, but I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, and actually it makes me feel uncomfortable too. I get the conversations about mental health – my mental health – BPD… I even got that I don’t look the sort to have BPD can you believe it? That right there is stigma, assuming you look a certain way to have BPD. Will be writing about this later. I’m tired of the never-ending monotony of work – rest – work – rest – work – rest – work – rest … it’s boring. There’s nothing to break it up and make it joyful… only ‘duties’…

 

Having to lift other people up… family members… putting their mental health ahead of my own. It’s not appreciated. It makes me feel worse, that I put myself out for people, whilst feeling like utter shit myself and it feels it’s all for nothing. I get in touch, which is hard enough for me at the moment, and say to message me in response… they don’t message me… which means I have to do the running and chasing, which I can’t do anymore. So now I’m just in a state of ‘you know what, I give up… if you won’t meet me halfway then tough’. I’ve had ENOUGH.

 

I want people to realise I’m not well at the moment. I need them to meet me halfway or even go the whole distance for me. I’m sorry it’s this way. I feel shit about it. But it’s how it is. I can’t express all this to anyone. I’m alone with it. This blog is the only place I have to air this stuff. I know nobody cares what I have to say on here anymore. So really I only have myself. But at least I can say it somewhere. Nobody in my life knows the burden on me right now. I can’t take it anymore.

 

I feel assaulted by life. I feel like I’m laying there powerless… unable to move…. and things are being done to me and I just have to lay there and take it. I have to distance myself from it all in my mind and I see it as though not through my eyes. That’s my life right now. Everything I do is as though it’s done from a distance… as though I’m a glove puppet being made to perform in a show… only there’s no audience. There is no point to this. There is no point in struggling through the pain and burden of life, when I’m all alone and there’s no goodness in life. Why am I here? Why the hell am I enduring all this shit and mental torture? There’s no point to any of it. I’m told to be strong and keep going – why?? There’s nothing to be gained in my life. All I’ve known is loss. And the things that once kept me going have now gone too. I’ve been forgotten. I’m being neglected. And these people who are meant to care about me, know it’s hurting me. They know the silence is killing me. They ask if I’m okay, and when I say I’m not… silence. They’re done with me. And so I’m done with them.

 

I feel so rotten about myself, that feeling guilty for their frustration with me only makes me feel worse. And I can’t keep feeling this way. I just want to turn all my feelings off. I just need a break from emotions.

 

I can’t take any more of it. I want all the flashbacks to stop. I want to forget everyone from my past. I want to forget everything bad that ever happened. I want to feel nothing.

The Unwritten.

 

 

 

“Hi, I hope you’re okay. I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to get in touch. I wasn’t sure what to say. The longer I left it the harder it got. There’s been a lot going on at this end, and I’m finding it hard to juggle everything. I should have said something earlier, to let you know what was happening, and I’m sorry that I didn’t. I didn’t mean to hurt you or make you feel you were alone.

I know you’ve been having a really tough time, and I’m so sorry I haven’t been there for you. I know anniversary dates can be difficult, especially as this was your first experience of it… the first one. And I’m sorry nobody was there for you, that must have been hard. But I do care about you, and of course you were in my thoughts. I hadn’t forgotten, I’m just rubbish at communicating at the moment. I know he meant a lot to you, and he’s still with you.

I haven’t been avoiding you… I know it seems that way, but I promise I haven’t. There’s just been so much to think about, that it all got too much for me, and I had to have some time on my own, to be able to cope with it all. I didn’t mean to make you feel so alone though. I promise I’m not abandoning you, I just have to get my head around everything that’s going on in my life.

I’m still here, and I still care about you very much. And I miss you. The kids do too, they keep asking about you. You’re a special friend to me, and I’d hate to lose you from my life. I wish I could take away all the pain you’re feeling right now, or at least help you carry it. I want to see you be happy. I hate to see you so upset. I’m worried about you… please don’t do anything to yourself, I need you… the kids need you. It would break my heart to lose you.

Even when I can’t be there for you I want you to know you’re in my thoughts, and don’t ever doubt my care for you. It’s unconditional. You’re my best friend, and I’m so thankful to know you. Things will get better I promise. Please look after yourself.

xxxx”

 

---

14/05/18

 

This is what I would’ve written to me if I was my friend. This is the message I needed to hear at this time. It acknowledges and validates my pain, it explains the absence, but doesn’t guilt-trip me for being upset. It shows care and concern for me. It leaves a good feeling. It’s reassuring and compassionate.

 

Sadly this is not the message I received. It was quite different to the above. I shall take more time to reflect on it, but so far it’s left me with a sense that I am a burden, I’m selfish – only thinking about myself, and not my friend. Lack of apologies. No mention of caring about me. No compassion for my first anniversary date, just telling me they don’t get any easier – doesn’t inspire me to continue… and making it sound like ‘we all go through it’ – which is what I figured my friends thought anyway. Sorry for being a ‘newbie’ to the club….  Cold. Bitter. Withholding of care. These are the immediate senses I get from what I’ve read.

 

I feel like I’m a bad person for not being there for her, but she could have told me much sooner, what was going on, and that I hadn’t lost her. It’s far too late, and the message hasn’t actually reassured me, because there’s no heart in it. I feel she’s angry with me, and I’m meant to feel guilty and ashamed, and selfish… which I slightly do right now. But I am also angry as a result… as I am done being made to feel guilty for being abandoned and hurt by people. I’ve had way too much of it in my life. It’s time people owned their behaviour and stopped trying to spin it round on me. I deserved an apology or care, one or the other at least, and I feel I received neither. Those closest to me are going to have to start trying to understand my illness. Our friendships won’t work otherwise. They have to acknowledge and accept my triggers and avoid them. And they have to start thinking about ‘tone’, and showing more care, concern and compassion. I will be writing a blog about this soon.

 

I understand she’s been busy, and she’s had to focus on other people – I totally get that, in fact I’ve written about it before … that I don’t expect to be the priority … that family is much more important, as it should be. I’m not saying she should’ve taken her focus off of them and focused on me. What I’m saying, and what I’m upset about, is that she could SEE I was in pain and heading to a very dangerous and lonely place. I was crying out for help! She could SEE it, and she couldn’t take sixty seconds out of her day to send me one caring message, to say she was thinking of me. I wasn’t worthy of sixty seconds. THAT’S why I’m upset. I’m sure I’ll get over it. This is just a tough time, for everyone. But I am allowed to be hurt by that, and to take my time to recover from the whole ordeal of the past couple of months.

 

One good thing I suppose, is when I began reading the message, I thought ‘Uh-oh, this has that tone to it, where it’s going to upset me and trigger me…’ I actually got supplies ready to harm myself. But then I picked up a stress ball and tried breathing slowly whilst I read the message. While the message did upset me, I haven’t yet harmed myself because of it. I know there’s still time, but at least I was able to put it off initially.

 

One thing I’ve done is closed my account, and removed everyone from my old one. I’ve turned my phone off. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now. I will ‘talk to’ my blog, and people on Twitter, as they’re the only things that have got me through the last couple of months. People might not like what I say on this blog, but they have no clue what it’s like to have my voice silenced, and to be made to put up with being mistreated. None of them know the level of despair and emotional pain I’m carrying. They’re not capable of knowing. Unless you have BPD you cannot even imagine the intensity of the feelings. I will keep talking here, as I’ve been advised to by people who understand the dangers of me not talking. Those who can see how close to the edge I am, and who understand mental illness, particularly the one I have, say it’s important to just keep talking. I know I saw it as a mistake to talk about these things here. But only I know where I’m at right now. Only I know the consequences of shutting down entirely. I know how close I am to jumping in front of a train, or off a bridge, or doing something else. I can’t let those thoughts win. I can’t let these people win. I have to keep fighting, for my family. They’ve always been there, and I know they always will. That has to be enough for me for now.

 

---

 

15/05/18

 

Having slept on it… I’m less upset. I’m able to look at potential reasons behind the message I did receive. Of course it would have been nice to get one like the one I wrote at the start – that’s what I needed. But some people have the knack, others don’t. I have to accept people as they are. In time I will respond, and it will actually be with compassion and concern, just as I needed. But at this point in time I have to protect myself, and that means keeping away from everyone. I’m sorry. It’s better that I distance myself, work out how I feel, think of a response and take my time to write it… otherwise I might say something I can’t take back. I actually feel quite proud of how I’ve coped with this so far. I’m doing what’s right for me. I avoided harming myself yesterday. And I’ll let the answer come to me in its time.

 

In the meantime I’m going to be writing posts about what we as people with BPD need from others. In therapy I’ve often been told to treat myself how I would treat a friend, or how a friend would treat me. The letter I wrote at the start is how I wish my friend had treated me… and it’s what I would say to her if she was going through what I’m going through. It’s what friends are meant to be there for… so knowing what I’d have said to her, means I’m closer to knowing how to speak to myself… it’s progress… it’s knowing how I deserve to be treated and spoken to. It’s been a way of telling myself what I need to hear. I’m thinking of doing a collection of letters like this to myself, from all the people who hurt me in my past… the things I wish they’d said, which they never did. It might build my self-worth up a little, and who knows, it might even fool my mind into thinking they were sorry for what they did!! If nothing else it’ll get all the pain out of me.

The next post will be based on this experience, putting it to good use and hopefully it’ll be helpful to others, whilst expressing my needs. Best get working on it!

 

xxxx