Tuesday Journal: 02/06/20

*SH / suicidal feelings*

 

 

Things I’m grateful for:

  • Again, the escapism of Animal Crossing.
  • Again, crochet.
  • Family.
  • Board games.
  • That MH site I joined last week. Not got support from it as such, but at least it’s somewhere I can actually express my feelings freely without judgement.
  • Beautiful flowers I spot on my walks.
  • Sleep – an escape from pain of every kind.

 

What I struggled with:

  • Self-harm & going backwards in recovery & communication. Shut down. Unable to talk to anyone or express my feelings. Paranoia about people’s opinions of me / intentions. False accusations. Gaslighting. Stigma. Blame. Triggers. Trauma. Snowballing thoughts / feelings about everything – grief, loss, bullying, abandonments, way people treated me, the WC, hopelessness, never fitting in, self-hatred. I could go on, but reluctant to use my voice anymore. Only writing this for the sake of keeping a record for going back to the WC at some point. If I live that long. Otherwise done.

What I learnt from it:

  • Keep my mouth shut & my opinions to myself. Safer that way.
  • Don’t let anyone in. Safer that way.
  • Nobody will ever understand me or my intentions. I will spend my life defending and explaining myself but it will fall on deaf ears.
  • I’m alone. I deserve to be. I’m meant to be.
  • It’s better to live in my own little bubble, talk to nobody, keep myself to myself, bottle my thoughts and feelings up and take them out on myself, silently. Like I used to. People liked me more then.
  • I need to go back to being a doormat who never spoke or smiled. Who knew her place.
  • Yeah this all sounds negative. You won’t change my views on this though. I’m beyond broken now.  I can’t do this anymore.

 

What I achieved:

  • Finished May miles and signed up for June.
  • Continuing my vitamins.
  • Unfortunately that’s probably about it. Oh, spoke to family members on the phone and my work friend. Was a big struggle though. I’m all peopled out. I just want peace now. I’m not well. Physically or mentally. Recovery is gone. It’s all too much. Life keeps reminding me why I’ll never belong here. That I’m too messed up to cope with this world and the people in it. That it’s only a matter of time. There’s no coming back from all of this. You can’t fix a broken soul. And people will never change. Too much has happened since lockdown that’s closed me down for good. I quit.

 

 

 

 

 

Rant: Near Breaking Point.

I’m so sick of living in a world where people don’t self-reflect! Where they don’t apologise. Where they don’t take responsibility. Where they project onto innocent people or blame them for being upset. I’m sick of selfish people making me out to be selfish. Shitty friends making me out to be the shitty friend. People judging a life and illness they have no clue about. People not realising their words and actions have consequences, and taking offence when those consequences come to be seen, thinking they’re the victims. I’m sick of being hurt by people yet me being the one who has to apologise. I’m sick of people saying the wrong thing the whole bleeding time. I’m sick of being invalidated, dismissed and misunderstood, or being made to feel like a failure. I’m just sick of it all. I’m sick of everything and everyone – is it any wonder I don’t want to participate in life when surrounded by people like that??

 

I feel close to breaking point today. After a couple of days with no bandage on I feel close to having to put one back on. I cannot cope with my thoughts. I cannot cope with people being offensive and then not understanding when people are hurt as a result. They’re everywhere. There’s no decency left in people. And no matter how much work I might do on myself, if others won’t look at their own behaviour they will continue to hurt me and be a barrier to my recovery. I’m sick of being the one requesting therapy, when I need it as a result of people who should be having therapy themselves. Sick of it. Sick of putting in efforts where others refuse to. So angry about this.

 

I’m feeling really low today. Partly after writing a blog last night which delved into some stuff… partly because of things various people keep saying that throw my head into turmoil and hopelessness…. partly because I feel so alone and misunderstood. And then there’s paranoid thoughts. Reminders of these people I described above. Snowballing thoughts. Until I’m left with the massive, confusing ball of emotions that usually ends up with a bandage of some sort somewhere on my body. Will try and not let that happen. But I’m really struggling today. Sometimes I think it’s better I just keep to myself. Yes it would be lonely. But life is so painful when other people are thrown into the mix. I just can’t take any of it at the moment.

Can’t Do This.

2 months since asking the doctor to refer me to CMHT. Heard nothing.

Nearly 1 year since self-harming at therapy. Still traumatised. Still not over Matt.

Difficult date coming up regarding my granddad. People tend not to support me through those.

Starting to slip back to thinking nobody cares again. Silence = indifference.

Hard to fight paranoia. New to me.

Haunted by past. Life was ruined six years ago.

People alien to me. World unreal. Detached. Disconnected. Hermit.

Friendship in tatters. Don’t know how to mend it. Can’t face it at the moment.

Deliberately triggered, knowing my insecurities. Low.

Abandoned at the worst time.

So much physical pain.

Isolation. Isolation. Isolation.

Brother going to leave me alone in life one day, or make me speak French & rejoin the EU!

Family is small and getting smaller. Life is brother, nan, parents. All will leave me one day.

No relationship. No children. No house. No job. No car. Nothing.

Mental illness worst it’s ever been. Nobody understands. Nobody helps.

So much emotional pain. So much loss. So many memories. Want it all to stop. Want it to go away.

Life is all wrong.

Want to scream.

Want to harm.

Want to die.

The (Not So) Merry-Go-Round.

* Contains bad language towards the end, and suicidal feelings*

 

 

I have struggled lately. I’ve felt overwhelmed and severely isolated. I was totally on my own for a date that was particularly hard for me. I reached out, I admitted I was struggling, and as usual nobody was there. I lie – one person was and has consistently been there in the last couple of weeks. Other than that, nothing. I blogged about my invisibility issue, and silence there too. Nobody else has spoken to me, neither light-hearted chit-chat, nor support. I feel dead to the world.

 

I messaged the one person who has been there, to tell them why I was doing what I was doing, and then closed my Facebook account. At least now there’s a reason they don’t talk to me, because they can’t. I know people are just living their lives, not ignoring me to hurt me, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t have an impact on me. It does. It makes me feel like a ghost. It makes me feel worthless and lonely, and like I could drop dead and none of them would even notice, let alone care.

 

I decided as soon as I got back from my break, if nobody was talking to me that was it, I was closing my account, isolating myself and focusing on me. I might as well be as alone as I feel. I no longer need to stay in contact with family through it now I’m back, so no point being on there. I’ve had enough.

 

Of course as soon as I do something like that I hear from people, saying they were about to send me a message. Sorry, but where were the messages when I needed people? Where were the messages when I needed to not feel alone? I’m not saying that people don’t have their reasons for not talking to me. I know full well they do – they have a lot going on. So many of my friends are going through major changes, problems, their own mental health struggles. I’m more aware of it than they give me credit for! That isn’t what I’m annoyed about. I’m annoyed that I keep feeling this way. I’m sick of the (not so) merry-go-round. I’m sick of the battle in my mind. I’ve given up and I’m going with the hijacker. There’s only so many times you can fight your own thoughts, and tell yourself it’s paranoia, whilst people do nothing to prove otherwise. Eventually the evidence stacks up that it’s not paranoia. If nobody will help me see another version of the truth then I’ll listen to the hijacker in my mind. I’ll let him drive me away from everyone. Better to be with him than to be sitting around watching shadows of old friendships, whilst chasing after crumbs. I’ve been through all that with ‘Joe’. I deserve more. Or I need more. The lack of care and support I’ve experienced in my life tells me I don’t deserve it…

 

Nobody seems to get how desperately lonely and broken I feel. Each time I feel this way I try and explain it, in the hope people won’t leave me in this state again, but they always do. So what else am I supposed to do? I’m so sorry, but I give up on people. It shouldn’t take me having a breakdown, disappearing offline, or harming myself before people take notice and show their care. I’m done. I can’t keep going through this.

 

I hate who I’ve become, but it’s this illness. It’s the last year or two, on top of an already painful past. I’m spiritually done. I can no longer care for the niceties and pretending everything’s okay. It’s not. I want all the pain to go away. I want to be happy. I want to be who I used to be, and have what I used to have. But it was all taken from me. That destroyed me. My experiences last year have changed me forever. This year has been so isolating… so excruciatingly lonely. People I care about and who brought me joy, I’ve not seen in 6 months. I feel everything and everyone slipping away. I can’t take that pain. I’ve already lost so much, I can’t take any more loss. People I talked to, suggesting meeting up, they never got back to me and we never met up. What more can I do? I’m sick of the silent rejection, it’s a killer. Just tell me you don’t want to know me! Stop speaking to me in silence. Stop expecting me to get the message. Stop delivering the message through other people, it’s not fair.

 

I see people living their lives, having no time for me anymore, and it’s crushed me, because I’m always met with the same ‘I’ve had a lot to think about… I’m busy….’ routine. I know that. I can see that. Please stop implying I’m being selfish in wanting to maintain a friendship through it all. It hurts. I’m sorry I want to matter to friends. I’m sorry I have an awful mental illness that makes me need more from you than you’re able to give – I didn’t choose this. I’m sorry I’m really sad at how much our lives have changed – well yours has… mine has stayed the same or got worse even…. and now we hardly see each other. I’m sorry that I feel I’m losing you and that I no longer matter… that I’m being forgotten. I’m crying as I write this, because that’s how upset I am when I think about the friendships I used to have, and now everyone’s grown up… they have different priorities… and I’m not one of them. It’s hard. People would say it’s a part of life, but they don’t understand I have nothing in life. I need friends. I rely on them because I have nobody else.

 

I’m really ill at the moment. It’s emotional torture. Perpetual hell. I’m trapped. The past and the present hurt me so much. I’m afraid of the near future – the things I have to get through soon. Feeling invisible to people who are meant to care is just too much on top of that. So I can’t deal with that right now.

 

I used to have a ‘poetry fanclub’ where I’d share my poems with friends in a group on Facebook. I eventually stopped posting in there as I realised nobody really looked at them. I felt invisible then. I felt nobody cared what I had to say. I felt what’s the point? It’s like an endless experience of rejection… that’s what my life feels like. Being ignored or not noticed is a form of rejection and abandonment… the very things that destroy someone like me. That’s why I’m withdrawing. People may not mean to hurt me by their neglect, but that doesn’t mean they’re not hurting me. And I hurt double because I know it’s not deliberate, so I blame myself for expecting too much of people, and for reacting how I do. But I’m sick of it all.

 

I needed people to be there when it mattered. They always wait until it’s too late. I can’t cope with it anymore. Either care while I’m there or let me go. I shouldn’t have to keep going through this. It’s destroying my self-worth and self-esteem. It’s making me hate myself. It’s making me close off from everyone. It’s making me give up on life. It would be different if it was one person not being there for me, but it always happens the same… I’m invisible to almost everyone at the same time. It’s like they all suddenly decide I don’t exist for a few weeks at a time… there’ll be just the odd one who actually steps up and recognises how I’m feeling and the care I need. I’m so grateful to those who do this. They tend to be single people most often, who understand mental illness, in particular this one I’m battling. Others just don’t get it. And how can they if they’ve never been there? If they’ve never felt the agonising loneliness, the crippling fear of abandonment, the feeling of not belonging to the world, not existing, being scarred both physically and mentally, and wanting to die nearly every day, and that feeling of every emotion being felt so much more intensely than they could ever comprehend, then how could they ever get me? How could they ever understand what hell this is, and what I need from them? I feel so misunderstood, but I have no energy left to explain it to people incapable of understanding it… people unwilling to understand it.

 

So I’m done being polite. I’m done with friendships of convenience. I’m done with being repeatedly rejected by society. I’m done with uncertainty. I’m done with being a ghost. I’m done with it all. if it makes me selfish so be it. I seem destined to be cast in the role of ‘the selfish one’ whatever I do – want people’s time, I’m selfish. Want to be alone, I’m selfish. Fuck it. All my life I’ve had selfish people accuse me of being selfish. If giving a fuck about myself and only myself, because nobody else gives up the time to give a fuck about me, then so be it. I’m fucking selfish. I have to protect myself from being treated this way. It’s not okay that they all make me feel like I don’t exist. It’s not okay that they make me relive my past. It’s not okay that the blame is put on me. It’s not okay that I’m left until it’s too late before anyone ‘cares’. And it’s not okay that they come back, make me think things will be different from now on, and then make me feel the same way. I can’t trust anyone anymore because of this unreliability and the sickeningly predictable unpredictability.

 

I hate that it seems like I’m asking too much of people. But things used to be okay.  I never had this problem with friends. Not to this degree. And now I’m at one of the worst points in my life, the most ill I’ve been… I no longer know if this is just my illness seeing this and telling me nobody cares, or if in fact people genuinely do not give a shit about me anymore….. I feel if they did give a shit they’d communicate with me more. But then am I being too demanding? Am I asking for too much attention?  Then I hate myself, and isolate myself more for being a bad person. Then I hate them all for making me feel like I’m a bad person for wanting to be loved and cared for. It just never STOPS. And I need it to stop. I feel sick. I don’t know how to make it stop, other than to pull away from everyone and be as alone as I feel. There is no other way for me.

 

Life is insanely hard at the moment. I don’t want to be here. I actually reached a place of calm earlier, thinking about the peace I would feel in death. I no longer cared about the things holding me back from doing anything. I just wanted all the noise and pain to stop. And I envied those who have gone from this world and don’t have to experience any of that anymore. I’m sorry, I know that’s bad to say. But I have very little to hold on to as reasons to live right now. My little family is about it. Everything else is bleak. It’s blackness and resentment. There’s no joy. No purpose. No hope. I have to keep telling myself to hold on another day. Things will feel better in the morning. Just get through it and keep going. But to what end? Everything is in tatters. I have no hope of finding love. I have nothing to aim for. I have no connection with friends. I have no role to fulfil. I have nothing to add meaning to life. What is the point in me limping on through life, hating every minute of it? What, just so that I don’t upset others by killing myself? I’m guilt-tripping myself into living in permanent pain. Nobody gets what that feels like. And I have to do it alone, because nobody talks to me. Not when I need someone. They’re never there. It just adds to the hell I feel.

 

I’m just so beyond done.

Flip Of A Switch.

Inferior.jpg

 

I’ve experienced snowballing thoughts before, but nothing like the other night. I had posted a link to someone’s blog, where they discussed ‘quiet borderlines’, which is apparently a relatively new concept. This interested me, as when I first had it revealed to me I might have BPD I thought there’s no way…. I had encountered someone who had it – who was the one who alerted me to the fact the mental health team considered me to have it too! Anyway, this girl was nothing like me. She was loud, demonstrative, openly emotional… I kept a lot of my feelings inside, not wanting others to see me upset or angry. I wasn’t confrontational. If someone upset me I didn’t let them know or fight back. I didn’t appear as though I had this ‘disorder’. I was quiet, rational-seeming, nobody would know I had these issues from my appearance, words or behaviour.

Now, upon reading this blog I found, I thought maybe there’s different sorts of BPD. I already know that we’re all individual, and some will have some traits that others don’t have. We also differ in being extroverts or introverts. Our morals differ too – I know my morals are very different to the person I’m referring to. Maybe I didn’t want to be lumped in with her, knowing how she behaved and how much she hurt me. Maybe it’s a personal thing for me.

Clearly I’m wrong. But I’m not a mental health professional. I never claim to know everything. I’m learning as I go. And my aim is to get myself through this illness as best I can, and help others to feel less alone. I stupidly posted this article, without thinking how it might make some people feel. Us BPD warriors are all in it together. We shouldn’t be split up into the ‘quiet’ ones and the ‘obvious / difficult’ ones. It was never my intention to make people feel that way by sharing it. I had it pointed out to me that most people with BPD match the description of ‘quiet borderline’… like I said, I don’t know these things. I’m not a professional, I don’t work with people with BPD… I don’t personally know many people with it. All I have is my own experience and any research I’ve done over the years, in order to help understand myself. If it is indeed the case that all people with BPD can be described as having quiet BPD, then it’s about time that is illustrated in the literature on BPD. The stereotypical description of those with BPD has to be challenged.

Anyway, point is, I posted that, and saw some comments about it, which made me feel I shouldn’t have posted it. This kicked in my self-hatred. I straight away thought I’d done the wrong thing, and I was a bad person for it, so I deleted it. I thought if it offended one person it would’ve offended everyone else too. I felt like a stupid person who knows nothing. I started calling myself thick and comparing myself to the superior intelligence of other people, including the person I’m transferring on right now….. and boy I shouldn’t have let my mind go there!

Suddenly I was sobbing into my pillow, reminded of having lost him forever. I started feeling inadequate – there must be something wrong with me if I’m still all alone at my age. Even though I’ve had friends support me lately, I had entered that state of mind where I believed nobody cared about me, and they all just tolerate me. The switch had been flipped. A friend had liked comments made about what I posted, and I had convinced myself they thought it was wrong for me to post it, and were ‘against me’. I thought I’m never going to speak out again. I’ll quit social media and my blog. Everything hit me all at once. Usually when I snowball it takes five to ten minutes to go through everything. This happened in a minute or two. Grief and loss. Betrayals from the past. Self-hatred. Flashbacks to therapy. Feeling isolated and alone. Desperation. It all just exploded in one big bomb of emotions.

I wrote a ‘live poem’ – writing in the moment, from my gut, hoping it would ease the emotional intensity. It didn’t. I couldn’t stop crying. I felt I was going to go entirely insane. I unfortunately had a slip up, which I’m really annoyed about, as I’d managed over three weeks without it and have to start again now… and having done it the once, the craving to continue it is back. This is going to be an uphill battle stopping harming again. Without any support too. It’s not fair. But at the time it was the only way to bring the emotions under control – there were too many, for too many reasons, and I honestly didn’t know what to do to stop it. It did the job, but in a way I wish it didn’t do that job, as that’s what keeps me hooked doing it. I know in the short-term it works. But now I feel ashamed, and I’m having to hide my arm again. And my mind is fixated on doing it more. Which then makes me reflect on the lack of support I have, my resentment about therapy, and the transference / loss, which further feeds the snowball effect.

I think I was in that state because it was the first day to myself since before Christmas. So I was finally alone with my thoughts, and let them all in. I was already in a bad mood, as I was trying to write but people kept talking and distracting me.

So it’s funny how little things can add up and have that effect, where one little thing and you’re gone. I’m just in a bad spot right now after therapy issues…. feeling really rotten about myself. I feel inferior to others. I’m not ‘good enough’. I just really don’t like myself anymore. And I can’t see why anybody else would.

I was going to write a piece about this ‘quiet borderline’ thing, but I’ve decided some things are best left alone… at least until I understand it more myself. So let’s just say, however your BPD presents itself, it sucks, and I think we can all agree on that.

I’m going to be writing and blogging a lot more in the coming days hopefully, as this is the worst time of year for me personally… the new year. Hate it. It highlights everything I don’t want to think about. I’d normally think ‘I’ll just get through it, and then it’ll be a new year, all’s forgotten’… but this year I’m feeling like it’ll be more of the same. And in fact the prospect of a fresh start is causing a problem for me – in that there are things / people I’m not ready to ‘let go of‘ yet… and those people aren’t going to feature in 2018 for me at all. That’s a highly depressing thought for me, and makes me not want to do next year.

So I just have to keep myself safe for as long as I can. And then I might start thinking about getting more help to fix what the IAPT service broke in me – shame it’ll probably cost me money to fix that. But if it’s necessary to keep on living and to find an equilibrium, or even happiness, then I’ll have to do it.